


Black Knight

by gigglebug



Category: Dragon Quest Builders (Video Games)
Genre: Costume Parties & Masquerades, F/M, also Malroth is a prince but shhh we don't know that, and then the ball lasts for three days, masquerade au, think cinderella minus the hour of lead up to the ball, yeah right who else would it be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:41:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29175060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gigglebug/pseuds/gigglebug
Summary: "Wait."He froze, slowly looking down at where she had grabbed his wrist. Wordlessly he looked back up to her face, his bright red eyes shimmering with something she didn't recognize.Crea blushed, her voice quiet. "We don't have to wait for tomorrow."-aka, I put all the characters in a blender with masks and this came out.
Relationships: Female Builder/Malroth (Dragon Quest Builders 2)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 19





	1. Day One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They arrive at the ball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do I feel like this story should've had more set up and plot? yes. did I want to go through all the work to research and come up with that plot/setting/historically accurate stuff? no. did I come up with a minor plot anyway with minor historical [and probably inaccurate] stuff from wikipedia? yes.
> 
> gonna do my best to separate the smut into its own chapter so squickable folks can still enjoy the ride. 🎉

"Today's the day!"

Crea looked up from her last minute embroidery touches on her dress, seeing Babs prancing in already dressed in her orange and white ball gown. She'd always told her that makeup was last of all, but even before her makeup she looked radiant and stunning per usual.

"You've only been announcing that for the last several hours," Anessa griped from her place on the couch. She'd been trying to read with no success, blaming it on Babs's frequent interruptions but was obviously excited herself. "And strutting around in your dress like we won't be leaving in three _more_ hours."

"I can't 'elp it!" Babs complained with a pout. "'Ow many balls 'ave _you_ been to? And 'ow many where you can show off yer sewing skills?" She set her hands on her hips.

"Yours, or Crea's?" Anessa asked.

"Hers," Crea said quickly. _"She's_ the actual seamstress apprentice, remember?"

Babs's expression softened during the tense silence that followed. "Don't worry, Crea. Soon as I'm old enough an' take over the old lady's shop, I'll sponsor ya. Then you can be my apprentice!" She giggled.

"You mean mine," Anessa corrected. "She's been around my old man's blacksmith just as much as your place. I'll apprentice her!"

Crea blushed, looking down to focus on the embroidery on her dress again. "That's very kind of both of you," she mumbled. "But I'll be too old for apprenticing by the time either of you inherit anything."

An uncomfortable silence followed for a minute, only broken by the quiet sounds of thread tugging on fabric. 

"Don't worry," Rosie piped up from the bed. "Our little village will keep taking care of you no matter what, proper apprentice or not." The other two nodded in agreement.

Crea smiled softly, not looking up from her work. "I sure hope so," she said under her breath. _I certainly don't have much else of a choice._

"Well now that that's settled," Babs declared, walking over to the couch and flopping down next to Anessa in a loud rustle of fabric. "We can discuss more important things!"

Anessa groaned, rolling her eyes. "Don't tell me you want to go over the rumors about the prince for the hundred-billionth time?"

"Wot's wrong with that?" Babs said, pouting again. "Just think! A mysterious prince floatin' around that no one knows 'oo 'e is… So… mysterious!" She swooned a little. "Just imagine it!"

"We have!" Anessa grumbled. "All the hundred-billion times before this!"

"Anessa, you sound hungry," Rosie said, pulling a knapsack out from beneath her bed. "Maybe you'll be less grumpy if you eat. You're usually not so grumpy with Babs."

Anessa sighed. "You may be right," she said, giving up on her book again and throwing it on the table before standing up. Babs subsequently put her feet where Anessa had been sitting.

"I brought plenty. Plum jelly and a bit of bread, nuts, and cheese." Rosie spread some out on top of her sheets. "Do you want some too, Crea?"

"Maybe in a little while," she replied. "I'd rather get this done today rather than scramble to finish it tomorrow."

"Oh, is that yer dress for tomorrow then?" Babs wondered, craning her neck to see the black fabric between Crea's hands.

"I think so. At least I'm nearly done." Crea held up the mostly-finished dress, showcasing the beautiful golden embroidery that covered the entire bust. She shook her head. "I still can't believe you convinced your old lady to let me use this thread."

"Eh, you'd do the same for me." Babs shook her hand in dismissal. "I was 'appy to."

 _Goddess knows I would've never been able to afford it,_ Crea thought while biting her lip. _Maybe I can sell it after the ball and pay her back for at least a portion…_

"Come, Crea." Anessa motioned to her, breaking her from her concentration. "You need to eat."

Crea nodded, leaving her dress on her chair before joining them.

* * *

The carriage ride from the hotel to the castle was thankfully brief. Four girls in fancy dresses wouldn't have lasted very long, that was for certain. But arrive they did, and exited in front of the large, wide oak doors, adjusting their masks and dresses as they approached. 

"If you dare," Anessa huffed under her breath, "to declare that we've arrived, _again,_ I will force-feed you your own mask." She adjusted her red dress carefully, the excess of ruffles and frills covering the entire bottom half of her outfit. Her mask was likewise red, covered in sequins and gems, which was useful considering all three of her outfits were carefully crafted to match for the three days they planned on attending. 

Babs laughed, her white and orange dress swishing pleasantly as they walked towards the entrance. Her mask was also white with orange accents of thread and flowers and feathers, and she too had planned her outfits with the same color scheme in mind. "Alright, I won't. But boy, 'ave a butcher's at the glamor of this place!" Her eyes sparkled beneath her mask, looking around at the fanciness of the exterior of the building.

"Nothing like that at home," Rosie agreed, adjusting her green sequined mask that refused to stay tied nicely on her glasses. Her dress was much more conservative than the other two, though still pleasant as a simple green with a single bow on the back. "I hope the food is just as majestic."

"You're a farmer's daughter, alright," Babs giggled. 

Crea smiled, self-consciously tugging at the plain red dress that hung nicely on her frame, though most wouldn't have been able to guess it was made from the scraps of fabric left over from when they made Anessa's dress. Crea had managed to make her own white belt that hugged her waist too, though she didn't have much else by way of accessories considering she couldn't pay for much of anything these days. Her mask was a faded white, done up with a few red feathers on one side and black thread around the eyes to enhance the mask. Drab compared to several other masks she was seeing so far.

Babs, fortunately, was having none of it. Or at least commanded attention enough to keep Crea from worrying about it too much, especially once she grabbed and squeezed her hand. "Can we talk about the prince now?" She whispered excitedly. "What d'you think 'e looks like?" Babs glanced around. She grinned at a pair of beefy boys in yellow masks as they walked past, their arms so thick it pulled their suit coat sleeves tight against their skin. "Maybe 'e's got a 'ole lot o' muscles!" she added softly.

Anessa hummed, surveying the crowd with practiced patience. "If I were a prince trying to hide, I'd try to either dress as outrageously as possible or entirely mundane. I would imagine if he had any defining features, that would've been included in the rumor." She watched a man with blue hair go past, sporting a mask of the same color. Anessa blushed. "But truthfully, it could be anything. Like I said, we know nothing."

"I'm just hungry," Rosie complained, adjusting her glasses and mask yet again.

Crea giggled. "Well, let's go find a bench and claim it for the four of us so we have somewhere to go back to if we get separated. We have three days of this, after all. Best to find a home base, so to speak."

"An excellent plan," Anessa said, immediately striding forward to survey the crowded ballroom. The other three followed after her, trying to keep up with her brisk pace. 

They arrived at an empty bench on the wall of the main floor, a little removed from the dance area in the center, but the whole room was still visible from their vantage point. Anessa was triumphant as the others joined her, puffing out her chest. 

"Thanks, Anessa," Crea said sweetly, sitting on the end. "This is perfect."

"I'll say," Babs agreed, eyeing the two yellow-masked men from before. Rosie grinned as she spotted the refreshment table, almost immediately disappearing.

"There she goes," Crea said, watching in the direction she'd gone. "I hope she manages to actually _dance_ while we're here."

"She'll be fine!" Babs said, plopping down next to her and throwing her arm over her shoulder. "Besides, if she ain't dancin', that gives us more of a chance to dance with the _mystery prince_ everybody's talkin' about."

"She has a point," Anessa agreed, sitting on the other end with rigid posture. "It is strange, though. Could this be a ploy? Integrate him into society perhaps? No one seems to know _anything."_

"Anessa," Crea chided playfully. "We're here to dance and see the sights, remember? Not everything is so suspicious as you like to believe."

Anessa set her hands back on her lap, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry. You are correct, of course."

"An' speakin' of dancin'," Babs said with her voice low, "who should we try to get the attention of first?"

Crea looked up, taking her first real look at the ballroom and everyone in it. There were pillars along the outside of the walls, benches nestled in between each one. There was a large staircase on the center back wall, starting together but rising and forking in half to the upper floor. Guests mingled and observed from the raised vantage point on the steps, chattering with companions and gesturing every which way. The women dancing on the tiled floor in the center of the room spun beautifully in their flowing gowns of every color, the sequins from their masks catching the light and sparkling. Men in suit coats of all kinds of colors looked proper and pristine beside their partners, though their smiles that peeked out from beneath their half-masks exposed their glee. In all, it was a welcome sight that combined well with the excitement in the air.

Crea's gaze was drawn to something out of the corner of her eye, but it vanished as soon as she adjusted her focus. She blinked, looking a little closer at the dancers on the floor to try to figure out what had caused it. It was another full minute before it caught her attention again, making her breath catch.

_There._

A flash of black.

Once she had seen it, it was impossible to look away. Crea followed it as the crowd moved in its predictable circle, awaiting the figure to come closer. And soon enough it did, revealing a man with a giant dark ponytail cascading down his back, dancing in a pristine black suit. His mask was subtle compared to others she'd seen so far, but it still glittered a little in the light and sported a couple black feathers from the side. Any other details were lost to her mind as he moved with his partner, turning his body to face her directly, their eyes inadvertently locking.

Bright red.

Crea felt the air freeze in her throat, wanting to turn away from the fierceness in his determined expression but finding herself unable to move. Fortunately the music continued its beat, and the second that felt like an eternity finally passed, leading him to turn away, following his partner further away into the crowd. Crea exhaled. 

"Find one ya like?"

Crea turned, seeing Babs smirking at her. "Not really," she lied, trying to calm her frantic heartbeat. "It's all so mesmerizing, you know? All the colors and the masks and the gowns… It's all so beautiful, don't you think?"

Babs snorted. "You're a terrible liar," she murmured playfully, jabbing Crea lightly with her elbow. "C'moonn, tell me! 'Oo's cute?" She looked around with her, trying to spot whatever Crea was looking at.

Crea saw the spot of black again and quickly diverted her gaze elsewhere. "Um…" She hesitated, trying to look over the crowd for someone suitable. 

"I know!" Babs said, nudging her with her elbow again. "You want the purple one!" 

She subtly pointed to a man nearby, though he was turned to the side so he didn't see them. His hair was green and his robe majestic, looking very proper indeed. Crea was about to agree in order to throw her off when he opened his mouth and began to belt out a song that clashed terribly with the music, making both Babs and Crea wince in unison.

"Never mind," they both mumbled.

Anessa scoffed next to Babs. "We've only been here twenty minutes, girl. No need to interrogate her."

"Uck, fine," Babs grumbled, sitting back with her arms crossed. "I'll wait another twenty minutes before I ask again, then."

Crea was about to respond when the shadow of a man loomed over them, making all three girls look up at a man with the yellow mask.

"'Scuse me," he said, starting to pose and flex his arms. "Me an' my bruvver was wonderin' if the pretty miss wanted to dance wiv us?" He stopped flexing, extending his hand out to Babs.

Babs broke into a wide grin, immediately accepting and jumping to her feet. "Lead on!" she said excitedly, following him to the waiting brother before going off together.

"There goes another one," Anessa hummed, crossing her legs and leaning back against the wall. "I think I'd rather get a good feel of the room before going off to dance. You never know when you ought to be prepared for these kinds of scenarios."

Crea smirked. "What kind of scenarios?"

Anessa scoffed. "Escape, of course! Why, with this number of masked individuals you could have a killer in here and none of us could ever know. Not until there's a scream and they find somebody stabbed to death in the middle of the dance floor! And then what, hm? Then you'll wish you'd thought of escape beforehand!" She grinned eagerly. 

Crea rolled her eyes. "I think you've been reading too many mystery novels," she teased.

"That may be," Anessa agreed. "But it is more enjoyable to dwell on that than wonder about any of these…" She paused as she watched an older gentleman go past them, staring horrified at the man's unkempt and dreadful beard. "Ruffians," she finished beneath her breath once he was far enough away.

Crea winced, likewise seeing a significantly older man with several gaps in his teeth that shined as bright as his bald head. "Yeah, you may be on to something there." A flash of black appeared behind the old man, and she instinctively looked to it before immediately regretting it as she accidentally caught a glimpse of the man's piercing red eyes again. This time she managed to look away before freezing, though her stomach did several anticipatory flips. "Anyone catch your eye anyway?" she asked weakly.

Anessa giggled. "I would have thought that Babs's invasive questions would've dissuaded you from asking some yourself."

"Err…" Crea bit her lip, listening to the music as it changed. "Yeah, sorry."

Anessa shrugged. "I don't care either way. But if you must know, I am consistently intrigued by the gentleman in royal blue over by the back column near the door."

Crea subtly turned her gaze to that side of the room, instantly seeing who she was talking about. "Oh yeah, that's a nice color," she said.

"He has been enjoyable to watch thus far," Anessa said, practically preening. "Though he seems nervous."

"Aren't we all?" Crea laughed. Anessa nodded, laughing with her beneath her breath.

"Hey."

Both girls turned their attention to the new deep voice, Crea's stomach flip flopping as she immediately recognized the black suit. She looked up to his red eyes that nearly glowed from behind the dark mask, watching his smirk for a second before he leaned forward to extend his hand.

"I noticed you've been staring. Would you like to dance with me so you can keep staring on purpose?"

Crea flushed hotly beneath her mask, and she was relieved that no one could see it. Though, she guessed Anessa knew anyway by how she snickered at her side. Ignoring her, Crea took his hand, standing with his help. "I would be happy to _dance,_ thank you."

The man smirked, starting to walk with her to the center of the room, watching her curiously from the corner of his eye while she firmly kept her gaze straight ahead. "Decided you _don't_ want to stare, then?"

"Of course," she agreed, huffing softly. 

"Oh no?" The man chuckled. "And why not?"

Crea bit her lip, trying to swallow back her confused scoff. "Because it's rude," she tried.

He hummed. "Maybe. But we're all wearing masks here. No one's going to know it's _you_ who's breaking the invisible rules." He raised his arm once they arrived, waiting for her to take her place opposite him.

She did so, setting her arm next to his. _"I_ would still know."

He snorted as they began to move together, following the smooth, leisurely steps of the dance. "Damn," he muttered sarcastically. "You got me. You're right. How did I not think of that." His eyes seemed intensely bright and amused as he watched her in return. "But that doesn't mean you don't still _want_ to."

Crea hesitated heavily, trying to think of a good retort. But the look in his eyes and the intense color was so entirely captivating that she felt her brain freeze. It was instinct that carried her feet across the floor, dancing and moving and spinning gently, all while keeping her gaze locked on his eyes. His smug demeanor glimmered back at her all the while, even from beneath his dark mask. Almost like he was challenging her. For what, she didn't know. But he eventually laughed under his breath and it brought her back to focus.

"Decided to stare anyway, I see," he teased softly. Crea blushed beneath her mask, though this time she didn't want to look away in shame. He found it amusing. At least he didn't find it rude. But then again, he was staring _back._ She wasn't sure what exactly that meant.

On they went, dancing and swirling and moving across the floor with the rest of them. Occasionally the movements dictated that he put his hand on her waist as they turned and changed direction, and she felt a strange thrill where the warmth of his hand pressed on her dress. Crea chided herself moments later. _It's just a dance, pull yourself together,_ she complained. _It's not a big deal. Just… socializing! That's all!_

She didn't know what she was trying to convince herself of.

The musicians at the front with their violins and strings started to wind down, signifying the impending end of the song. Crea could feel their steps slowing down as they followed the ritardando, circling while facing at each other until they were forced to part in order to bow. Crea heard him chuckle and looked up to see his smile.

"Thank you for indulging me," he said, his lips wide and showing off his teeth. "Hopefully this means you can find something else to stare at." Smirking, and before she could say anything else, he slipped away and disappeared into the crowd. 

Crea was still for several seconds as she stared at where he'd been standing, primarily confused and what had just happened. _How strange,_ she thought, only scurrying off the dance floor when the music started up again into the next song. Even when she glanced around the room full of its colorful dresses and masks, she couldn't find hide nor hair of him again. She knew he was real, so he couldn't have just disappeared, right? Defeated, Crea returned to the bench, now empty, while pondering.

When she turned around to sit, her eye was automatically pulled to the dark spot on the white marble stairs, seeing him ascending to the next floor. As though feeling her gaze, he turned around and immediately locked eyes from across the room. Even with the distance she could tell he smirked, turning away and jogging the rest of the way up the stairs without another thought.

Crea sighed as she sunk to sit down, feeling much more confused than a moment before.

_What was that about?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3c


	2. Day Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conversation takes an unexpected turn.

"So let me get this straight," Anessa said slowly, setting her joined hands in front of her mouth as she concentrated. "You want… to marry both of them."

Crea smirked at the window of the carriage, listening to Anessa and Babs. It was the second night of the ball, finally. Not that it kept any degree of surprise from Babs's supposed announcement. 

"Why not?" she defended, crossing her arms. Her dress was the same style as yesterday, though the colors were opposite places from the previous dress. "They're 'andsome!"

"You don't even know who they are!" Anessa complained, similarly crossing her arms. Her dress had similarly gathered red ruffles across her skirt, but with a backdrop of black that matched Crea's dress. Another kindness of her friends to purposefully use too much fabric that Crea could scrounge at a discounted price.

"But yer okay with Crea's little mystery boy instead?" Babs pouted.

Anessa sighed, exaggeratedly rolling her eyes.  _ "She's _ not insisting they're going to elope."

Babs threw her hands up in frustration, growling at the ceiling. "An'  _ they're _ the ones 'oo proposed. Sheesh, Anessa, you really need to lighten up."

"I  _ will _ lighten up, when you're not about to run away with two meatheads without so much as a thought for your own safety or future." Anessa huffed with arms crossed tight across her chest.

Crea watched the castle come into view, her mind already wandering to the man in the black suit.  _ I wonder if he'll wear the same as yesterday,  _ she wondered. It was far more acceptable for that sort of thing for a man, though she wondered what he would think now that she was arriving in a black dress with fanciful golden trim. Not that she was too excited to see him again or anything, she tried to remind herself. It was a vain hope though, of course, especially since she'd added a few various pieces of black feathers and gems to her mask to make it stand out more.

"Crea, tell her!"

Crea turned, seeing all three faces looking expectantly at her. "What?"

Babs smirked. "She's too wrapped up thinkin' about the mystery boy to back you up, Nessy."

Anessa scowled at the nickname. "Don't start that again,  _ Barbara. _ You know you'll lose."

"Stop that!"

"Then stand down!"

The carriage began to slow, drawing Crea to look out the window again to watch the front entrance of the castle as they pulled up next to it. Behind her, the girls huffed at each other in an uneasy truce. Or a stalemate, really.

Filling out of the carriage and up the steps, the girls navigated the crowd to the bench they had claimed the previous day, miraculously still empty. They'd arrived a few minutes earlier than yesterday, and the other party goers hadn't yet made the dance area so crowded. Crea nervously tugged at her fingers in her lap, wondering if she would still recognize the man from yesterday. Or if they'd dance again.

"Do you see him yet?" Rosie asked softly, shifting closer to Crea. 

Crea laughed nervously. "No, not yet. I think it's probably a bit too early for that, if I'm honest."

"One o' those fashionably late types, eh?" Babs scoffed. "'E should know better than to keep a lady waitin'."

"By the same token, it is possible he is scoping out other prospects," Anessa said softly, observing the people standing by the handrails around the upper floor.

"Is 'e cute? Maybe another girl tried to claim 'im," Babs giggled.

Anessa scoffed. "You mean your standard of cute, or hers?"

"Either. You're the only one 'oo saw 'im, other than Crea."

Crea shrugged, looking down at her hands. "Not lanky, but not thick like you like. Yesterday he was in black. Who knows for today."

"Well, you're in the same place as yesterday, so it should be easy for him to find you, right?" Rosie said, trying to reassure her.

"Excuse me…"

Crea looked up at the new voice, immediately distracted by the orange bowl cut on the figure before her. Still, it was nothing compared to the abject terror behind the green mask that covered his eyes. He cleared his throat.

"Erm, sorry for intrudin'. I was wonderin'... if'n ya might wanna dance with me?" He blushed, and what skin she could see of his face turned as red as his hair.

Crea made sure to smile widely, hiding the disappointment from her voice and burying it deep below her stomach to deal with later. "Certainly!" she replied, taking his hand and standing. "I would be delighted." She ignored the pointed stares on her back as she went out to dance, taking her place beside the man and spinning off in time with the music.

The dance with the orange-haired man was fine, all things considered. He certainly talked a lot about chickens, though. Crea tried to participate, but after a while she got the feeling he was talking to calm his nerves rather than to participate in a conversation, so she stopped trying and let him ramble about how to tell chickens apart and something about his special hen. The music ended and he still looked so terrified that he scampered away into the crowd, leaving her open for a purple-haired gentleman in an equally purple mask to intercept her before she could escape too. She didn't think it could get worse than chickens, but she was mistaken considering this guy talked about religious conversion like it was his life calling. Which would have been moderately acceptable in the right setting, of course, but trying to convince her to join a religious alliance of builders during a ball hardly seemed like the right time. Still, she managed to be polite until the end when he tried to ask for another dance to continue his spiel, and she realized her face must have gone considerably white despite the mask since a lady stepped in to intercept and whisk her away into the next dance before the man could protest.

"Good save," Crea whispered, releasing the held air from her chest.

The woman chuckled, wearing a dazzling red mask with gold trim. "Back home it's my job to protect people, and I could see you needed help from miles away. It's my pleasure." Her smile was genuine and bright like her yellow hair, giving Crea the confidence to continue through the evening. Although she chanced a few sly glances throughout their dance, looking to see if she could spot any black.

A well-spoken man with teal hair and a teal mask approached her next after the woman left, though their conversation was hardly anything of note. The man seemed intent on parroting rumors about the emperor's son, as well as making quiet, cutting remarks whenever they passed a gentleman in a poorly-fitted suit. It was after him, however, that Crea froze, face-to-face with an older gentleman in blue with white trim, though at present she was more disturbed by his bald head, wiry white beard, and the gaps in his teeth as he smiled. She barely held back a grimace, but she gasped as soon as she felt a pair of hands on her hips.

"Need some help?" a deep voice whispered in her ear.

Crea froze worse once she recognized the voice, and rigidly moved her eyes to watch him as he stepped around from her back to front. The man from yesterday deliberately placed himself slightly in front of her, staring the other man down with his expected and mysterious smile. He was wearing a red paisley vest over a solid black shirt today, his giant ponytail still cascading down his back like before. Though, his suit coat had apparently been abandoned elsewhere, leaving his form-fitting sleeves exposed. She was suitably impressed, as far as physique was concerned.

The old man, however, looked offended at the intrusion. "Gadzooks and by jove, I say!" he harrumphed, stomping his foot. "I asked her first!"

"And I asked second, what of it?" The other man smirked. A common look of his, she was coming to understand. "She didn't accept you yet, so I still have every right to cut in."

The old man grumbled. "She hasn't yet accepted you either!" he said loudly.

The man turned to her with shining red eyes, extending his hand. "May I?" Crea stared for a moment but nodded mutely, putting her hand on his palm and feeling goosebumps as his fingers curled up to hold her.

The old man grumbled again before anyone else could speak, stomping away while muttering under his breath. The man in black smiled knowingly, approaching to put his hand on her waist and leading her into the dance. 

"Thanks," she breathed, trying to calm her racing heart.

He chuckled. "I thought you could use an interlude from your boredom," he said. "It's clear as sun on your face."

Crea blushed. "Ah. You mean it wasn't intentional to save me from predatory old men? How silly of me."

"Well I didn't say it was the  _ only  _ reason, now did I?"

Crea nodded, suddenly aware of his proximity as well as his hand on her waist. "Such a gentleman. You must be a knight."

He scoffed, his red eyes rolling beneath his mask. "Hardly."

Crea smiled shyly. "Well… Thanks for saving me from that anyway, mister knight." He looked unimpressed, so she tried again. "Mister black knight."

He finally chuckled at that. "Alright, fine. You're welcome. Don't make it a habit to get into trouble."

Again his eyes felt to disarm her as they shimmered from beneath his mask, and she tried to look elsewhere in the room. Sure, he didn't care about staring, but she certainly cared about not getting so flustered as to say something stupid.

"I'd never get into trouble with you around."

Not that she could stop herself even if she wanted to.

His smile belied his intrigue, and she could almost imagine the raised eyebrow beneath his mask. "Oh really?" he said. "And why is that?"

"Um…" Crea panicked. "Because you wouldn't let me? Obviously."

He snorted. "Perhaps. Or I leave you to the wolves next time. How's that for incentive?"

She laughed nervously. "Alright, maybe not as much of a knight that I thought."

"Thank you."

"But… if you're not a knight, why do you act like one?"

The man laughed, his eyes crinkling. "Bit personal of a question for a masked ball, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"Oh stop that, I'm kidding." 

She flushed hotly, her embarrassment finally allowing her to look away.

"What, you don't wanna stare at me like yesterday?"

Crea looked back at his smirk and immediately wished she hadn't. "Please don't mock me," she said softly. 

"Sorry. I wasn't. I was just trying to keep the mood light." He let go of her waist to spin her around, pulling her back closer to his chest once he was done. She almost thought she could smell his clothes. "Why are you trying to look away from me, then?"

"Habit, I'm afraid," she admitted. "I've been so used to looking away, you can't expect me to change that for one or two nights."

He hummed. "Maybe not. But I can still try."

Crea exhaled softly. "Fancy yourself that much of a looker, huh?"

Even without looking directly at him she could still sense the sparkle in his eyes. "What do  _ you _ say? Am I?"

Her heart pounded against her ribs.  _ Couldn't keep my damn mouth shut!  _ she thought, mind reaching to come up with an answer. "E-Erm… Well…"

"I'm sensing a yes," he teased. "So why are you looking away so much?"

Crea flushed as they changed direction in their dance, her mind stuttering and stammering for a rebuttal. Mostly, she was grateful none of those sounds came out of her mouth. "W-Well—" Failed already. She needed to deflect. "I… I've heard rumors of a special someone that came here for the ball. I would be smart to keep my eye out for someone like that, wouldn't I?"

"Special someone?" His eyes glimmered with intrigue. "Like who?"

"Like the Emperor's son," she said, smirking with a hushed voice. "The prince."

The way his eyes widened made her think he'd raised his eyebrow. "Really?" He glanced around them as they danced around each other, humming to himself. "Maybe I should start dancing with guys." He looked back at Crea, his eyes still sparkling. "What have you heard?"

"Not a lot," she admitted, sighing. "Just that he's supposedly here. Nobody seems to know anything about what he looks or acts like."

"That's sneaky of him." He smirked. "What do you think about that?"

She scoffed. "I mean, I think I can understand the appeal of nobody knowing anything about you, but what kind of lengths do you have to go through to hide your identity as a  _ prince? _ Heaven knows he's off standing on the balcony and judging us before we even get a chance to see him, or something." Crea shrugged. "Besides, we've all heard stories about what royalty is like. Probably disconnected, pedantic, or spoiled. Or worse, all three. Even if we  _ were _ to miraculously catch his eye, would wealth be worth putting up with that kind of a person?"

He considered that for a moment as the song started to wind down. "Good points," he said. He seemed thoughtful about something. "Are you returning tomorrow?"

Crea blinked, surprised at the sudden change. "I believe so. Why?"

He grinned. "Just curious if I might be so lucky to dance with you tomorrow, too."

"What?" Crea stuttered.  _ Lucky? _ "What do you mean? Why?"

"Why not?" he shrugged, stopping in front of her as the music paused between songs. "And if I'm honest," he whispered, leaning forward, "you're the most interesting conversationalist I've met so far."

She stared at him. "But we didn't even talk about that much."

"Which means you can decide if that's a compliment to you, or just a dig at everyone else." The man smiled, bowing elegantly. Crea returned the gesture in a graceful curtsey. "Tomorrow, then," he said, turning away.

She immediately moved without thinking, thrusting her hand forward. "Wait."

He froze, slowly looking down at where she had grabbed his wrist. Wordlessly he looked back up to her face, his bright red eyes shimmering with something she didn't recognize.

Crea blushed, her voice quiet. "We don't have to wait for tomorrow."

He stared, his expression reminiscent of a spooked deer, clearly weighing his options in his mind while simultaneously trying to understand what was happening. But then the music started and he instinctively stood up straighter, turning back to face her completely and holding his hand out. "That's true."

Shyly, Crea took his hand and resumed her dance position next to him, starting the steady turns of the waltz. They were silent for a full minute, watching each other intently. Waiting for the other to start a conversation. 

Ultimately, she broke first. "So…"

He only offered a noncommittal hum after a few seconds, sounding like a dull question mark. 

"Are you from around here?" she squeaked.

"Obviously." He nodded, his eyes a little glazed as he seemed to keep pondering something. "You? Did you have to travel far to get here?"

"Only a day by carriage," Crea said. "Would've been longer by boat."

"What?" His eyes focused more sharply on her as she broke him from his trail of thought, confusion evident on his face. "What do you mean by boat?"

She blushed. "It was supposed to be a joke," she explained. "Because there's not a dock here, so it would've taken a long time…" Crea glanced to another part of the room. Maybe asking for a second dance was too far. 

But he laughed, making her look back at him with surprise. "Good point," he said, with a wide smile on his lips. "Sorry. I wasn't expecting a joke. Most people I interact with take themselves too seriously."

"Oh?" Crea smiled shyly, intrigued. "And what sorts of people do you regularly interact with?"

He tutted. "What, and tell you all my secrets about who I am?" He smirked. "I believe that defeats the purpose of a masquerade, don't you?"

"I…" She blushed. "Yes, sorry. You're right. I haven't been to many of these."

"Many haven't. I'm used to it."

She bit her lip, glancing over the sequins on his mask before meeting his red eyes again. "So if you can't tell me who you are… Can you tell me what you do?"

His eyes brightened. "Ooh, you're clever. I like that." He hummed contentedly. "Yes, in fact, I can tell you. I consider myself to be a student."

"At a university?!" she exclaimed. "Oh, how I've wished I could do that! What's it like? How are the teachers? Which one do you attend? What do you study? Oh, I can only imagine being surrounded by so many  _ books—" _

"You're treading into personal territory again." A smile tugged at his mouth, making his amusement obvious. "But I believe it's customary to return a question with a question. What do  _ you _ do?"

"Me?" Crea felt her cheeks turn hot. "Well, I… I'm an apprentice."

"For?"

"A couple of people," she said, looking away. "Back in my village. A carpenter, a stonemason, a blacksmith, a seamstress… I bounce around to whoever needs more help that day."

"So many," he remarked. "I thought apprentices are supposed to take on the entire craft of their Masters, not carry on pieces of several. Currently that sounds like a… Forgive my saying it this way, but a bit of a whore for hire."

"Yes, well…" Crea smiled bitterly. "In some ways, I am."

The man entirely stopped in the middle of the floor, jerking her arms as the momentum kept going without her. She looked up to see his eyes, surprised to see them hard, bright, and furious. "Explain yourself," he demanded softly.

Her heart started thundering in her chest. "I-I-I didn't mean to offend—"

"I am not, but you would do well to explain yourself before I start making assumptions.  _ Explain." _

She gasped softly, overwhelmed by the flurry of gowns and movement around her that started to feel oppressive under his withering stare. "I– Well, I mean, my father—" She swallowed heavily. "My father had many debts," she whispered.

His red eyes flashed brightly, making her heart flutter like a caged animal. "He  _ sold _ you?" His voice was dangerous and barbed, but expertly hid beneath the chatter of the room. Silent anger was anger to be feared, as she well knew.

"No," Crea breathed. "Of course not, he would not be so cruel, never. But when the debts came due and they had already taken his house and everything else he owned, the only thing left to give was me…"

"So you were given." His eyes softened. "And taken, in return."

"Yes." She nodded, calming a little now that his gaze was less intense. "To the village he owed. So they teach me, but not in favor of their other apprentices."

"Really?"

"It doesn't help that I can't pay guild fees, nor will anyone sponsor me to learn…" She shrugged, biting her lip. 

He hummed. "So you're trapped, then?"

"I believe that is more personal of a question than you are allotted for a masquerade, Sir," she whispered, smiling nervously. "Respectfully."

That seemed to snap him out of a trance, causing him to look around them at the dancers that still swirled past them as the waltz came to a close. "Right," he said softly. "Yes, of course. Sorry." He observed her face for a few more seconds, the shape of his mouth not changing at all to give her any clues to what he was thinking about. "Did you alter your mask since yesterday?" he asked, tilting his head a little.

She blushed. "Ah… A little. Yes."

He smiled and she felt her blood start to circulate again. "It looks nice. Masterfully done, even. I look forward to seeing how you change it tomorrow." He let go of her waist, stepping back a pace in order to bow. "I hope you will let me dance with you again tomorrow too."

Crea managed to curtsey, though shakily. "Of course. I… I'm looking forward to it." She smiled shyly.

He smiled back, looking far more confident than she felt. "Me too." Their gazes lingered for a moment before he nodded once and turned, disappearing into the crowd.

Crea likewise turned, weaving through the crowd before emerging near the bench where Anessa was waiting alone. Anessa watched Crea carefully as she approached, waiting until she had managed to sit down before speaking.

"Your face is very pale," Anessa remarked. "Did something happen?"

"I don't know," Crea admitted softly. "I… Maybe?" She shook her head. "I danced with that man again. We… We talked about my father."

"Truly?" Anessa turned her body to look at her. "Why?"

"I… I don't remember." Crea sighed, rubbing her chest near her heart. "All I know was it felt like a heart attack for how intensely he stared at me…"

Anessa glanced out over the room. "There's definitely something strange about him…"

Crea nodded, looking up at the dancers again. Strange was an understatement. And yet as she watched the spinning gowns and handsome smiles that went past, overlayed by the memory of his eyes in her mind, there was one thing she was definitely sure of.

She was definitely looking forward to tomorrow.

And that was new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm considering adding a chapter 5 for a wrap up since the surprise plot got away from me a little bit XD I'll keep you posted!


	3. Day Three, Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crea gets a gift and a little conversation time with our masked friend. Not necessarily in that order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you will notice this is part one! that's cos this chapter got to 7k and that just felt. too long. and I wasn't even done with it yet lol. so here's some.

"Oh my _stars,_ Crea, it's gonna be so cute!" Babs declared, walking into the ballroom again for the third night. Her dress was solid orange on the bottom half and faded up to white at her shoulders. "I can already see the weddin'. A masquerade weddin', o' course! Just in case 'e wants to keep 'idin' 'is secret identity, y'know?"

Crea blushed, adjusting some of the blue lace on her shoulder. This dress was a gift from her friends, obvious in the lace and excess of fabric in the skirt that she wouldn't have ever been able to afford otherwise. "Babs…"

"Ah!" she squealed. "Such a cute couple! I'm sure 'e's even more 'andsome under that mask, and I 'aven't even 'ad a proper butcher's at that yet!"

Crea's heart flipped at the prospect, though she quickly quieted it. There was no evidence that anything like _that_ would happen, and she wasn't going to hope that it would. She didn't want to be disappointed. "Can we talk about something else please?" she muttered weakly.

"Why?" Babs smirked, throwing her arm over Crea's shoulder. "I need to meet yer future 'usband! After all, I'm gonna visit ya an' I'll 'ave to get along with 'im."

Anessa sighed on Crea's other side, walking stiffly in her grey and silver dress that flowed despite how she walked. "This is assuming both of your husbands let you go to see her."

"Oh, they better!" Babs scowled suddenly, dropping her arms and huffing. "Crea's basically a sister to me! Ain't nobody gonna mess with that if they know wot's good for 'em."

Anessa subtly walked in such a way that she traded positions with Crea. "Again, you're assuming they will allow such an arrangement. You _still_ do not know their names, their home location, nor their professions. Not to mention the number of times you've changed your mind on if you will or will not _actually_ marry them."

"Don't make me look like a fool, Nessy!" Babs snapped, setting her hands on her hips. "They're good blokes!"

"Do try to be realistic—"

"I'm bein' realistic about 'ow _nice_ they are—"

Crea slipped away into the crowd before she could hear much else of the argument. She dodged and weaved around colorful gowns and well-pressed suit coats, stopping once she was on the opposite side of the room to their normal bench they'd picked out. Crea breathed a sigh of relief, approaching a nearby pillar to lean against and watch. She just needed a little time and distance, right? And maybe needed to wait to go back until after this night was over. Or at the very least until Mister Smirking Red Eyes said goodbye for good. 

"Such a ragtag bunch…"

A woman's voice floated to her from nearby, and Crea glanced over to see two women huddled together at the next pillar. One was in a frilly pink dress that matched her hair, pulled into a ponytail on the side of her head. The other wore blue and white, and her yellow hair was pulled into two short braids. Crea tried not to pay attention, but with nothing else to focus on she had little choice.

"I don't know why I keep coming to these," the girl in pink continued to complain. "I mean, it's the same stuff every year, you know? Even down to the rumors about the prince showing up. I've never met him, and I've been coming for years now. I doubt he exists at all."

The blue girl nodded sympathetically. "Totes lame."

"Exactly. And you know the kind of men we get instead?" The pink girl blew a soft raspberry in disgust. "Simply the players who come looking to break a girl's heart and dreams, that's what. So typical."

Crea rubbed at her arms uncomfortably. _Surely that's not true._

Fortunately, or unfortunately, the girl in blue voiced a similar sentiment. "Seems sus when you put it like that."

"Oh yes, it's true," the pink girl continued, determined. "Men always come to these to swoon some poor girl into sleeping with him on the last night and then disappear once they're done with her." The pink girl sighed. "It happens every year. So tragic."

"That's so not cool, fam," the blue girl muttered. "You'd think the bros would, like, know better."

"Yes, you would think." The pink one shook her head. "Especially considering some of them are supposedly nobles. Horribly undignified! And yet my complaints meet deaf ears. Either the ones organizing this rabble don't understand how rampant a problem it is, or they simply don't care."

Crea did her best to look unbothered, but she bit the inside of her lip anyway. Every year? She doubted it. She _wanted_ to doubt it. But then again, she was also receiving attention from some masked somebody with unknown intentions. The possibility was there as much as she didn't want to admit it. She sighed.

"Crea?"

She turned around to find Rosie, cute as always in all her green. "Hey. What's up?"

"Well, you ran off in such a hurry I wanted to make sure you were okay," she admitted, stepping a little closer.

Crea smiled nervously. "I… I think so. I just… didn't want Babs to tease me anymore for now."

Rosie nodded sympathetically with her calm smile. "I understand. You must be nervous."

Crea turned away, looking back at the room. "A bit of an understatement," she mumbled, thinking about the supposed 'players'.

Rosie took her hand, squeezing it gently. "Don't worry. I know it's easy to say, but I mean it. No matter what happens, we'll all have your back. Babs included. We'll always make a place for you at home."

Forcing a smile, Crea looked at Rosie. "Thanks," she said, still feeling a little queasy at the implied suggestion she might ever have a chance to _leave_ that place for good. It wasn't an honest thought she'd ever entertained before.

Rosie smiled sweetly. "Just try to enjoy tonight, okay? It's not every day you get to look like a princess in a beautiful dress."

Crea relaxed at that. "Or eat fancy food. Don't think I haven't noticed you sneaking into that dining room all the time."

Rosie giggled, blushing. "You know me. Always looking for the finest foods in the whole kingdom." Her smile softened. "Do you want me to bring you any?"

Crea shook her head. "No thank you. If it's okay with you, I'd… I think I'd like to be alone for a little while."

"Of course." Rosie patted her hand again. "You know where to find us." 

Crea nodded, waiting for Rosie to be out of sight before sighing heavily and turning to watch the dancers again. The crowd was even bigger tonight compared to the others– groups of dancers even spilling off the designated area in order to move and spin without hitting anyone. Crea fidgeted with her fingers in front of her stomach. Maybe it was too much to hope that he would find her tonight…

A woman cleared her throat to Crea's side, and she looked over to see the woman in pink from earlier. The woman smiled, bold and brash. "Forgive my intrusion, but I overheard you talking with that other girl. Is everything okay?"

Crea smiled politely. "Oh, my friends are teasing me, that's all. It's really nothing to worry about."

The woman's smile didn't change at all. "Oh, that's nice. Would you like to dance with me, then?"

Crea faltered. "What?"

"Do you want to dance with me," she repeated. "It's not like you're waiting on anyone or anything, right?"

"Um…" As much as she didn't want to admit to waiting for a boy, she especially wasn't going to admit that to this gossip queen. "I… I am, actually."

"Oh?" The woman tilted her head, the pink feathers on the side of her mask bobbing a little. "And who would that be?"

"Oh… Well, that defeats the purpose of a mask, now doesn't it?" Crea replied shyly.

The pink woman set her hands on her hips. "You're waiting for a boy, aren't you!"

Crea felt her knees go weak. "I, um… Well…"

"Y'know, this will be the second time I've had to save you from unwanted company." Crea looked over at the man in the black mask, coming up from behind her and putting his hand between her shoulder blades. His suit was a pleasant and soft silvery blue, and his vest underneath his coat was a paisley of the same color. He smiled at Crea before looking at the pink girl. "And who's this?"

The half of her face that was visible turned a bright pink. "You better not take advantage of her! You men are all the same!"

The man tilted his head, very clearly raising his eyebrow beneath the mask. "What do you mean by that?"

"You know exactly what I mean!" She grumbled. "You— You scoundrel!"

The man shook his head. "I can promise I'm no scoundrel. Some of us were raised with manners, rather than taught to assume things about other people."

The woman's face turned as pink as her hair. 

"Shall we?" The man smiled, turning towards Crea and offering his hand. She smiled shyly in return, taking it and allowing him to lead her into the fray of bodies to dance. 

It was so loud within the boisterous crowd that Crea could hardly hear herself think, never mind the music. As it was, even if the crowd had been less extreme she wasn't sure she'd be able to hear anything over her overexcited heart. His eyes were piercing yet kind, and she fought back her fears that he would use her before discarding her. She managed to convince herself a little.

Eventually, after making attempts to circle the floor a few times, the man eventually took her hand and led her to the stairs, offering a weary smile once they were halfway up the grand marble staircase and could hear themselves again. "It's pretty popular tonight," he observed dryly. "Maybe we should just go upstairs and talk between the two of us?"

She smiled warily, the pink woman's words still in her head. _Alone. Yes, of course._ And yet, she hiked her dress up so she wouldn't trip and followed him up the stairs.

It was significantly quieter up on the second floor, as well as less crowded. She saw only a few masked couples entering rooms along the corridor, guessing with a bit of nausea what was happening in them like the pink girl said. But the man in the black mask instead led her to a bench on a balcony overlooking the room down below. He helped her to sit before sitting himself, and then it was quiet between them.

Crea felt her heart pounding, both uncomfortable and unsure. All day she had looked forward to this, and now that she was here, she wanted to be practically anywhere else. She heard his intake of breath to speak and she instinctively froze.

"I guess you're wondering why I brought you up here, rather than immediately run away like the previous nights."

She nodded, staring straight ahead. No doubt her voice would be funny from her nerves, so she didn't even try. 

He smiled out of the corner of her eye. "I mean, it would've been easy to run away again, right? To say that the floor was too loud to talk anymore and say goodbye and leave. Probably forever…" The man paused. "But really, I brought you up here for a reason."

He was still, clearly waiting for a response from her. She nodded stiffly, her voice coming out squeaky and shy. "And that is?"

The man turned his upper torso, reaching into his suit coat and pulling out a roll of parchment tied with a black ribbon. "Primarily, to give you this."

Crea couldn't help but turn towards him, slowly accepting the parchment quizzically. "And… This is…?"

He smiled, his red eyes shining. "Well, there are two things there. The first is a letter from your village."

Her mind went blank, not expecting an answer like that at all. "My… village?"

He nodded. "I wrote to your village last night. Had my servant deliver it and return before this evening. I have paid off your father's debts. Or rather, yours."

Crea gasped loudly, dropping the rolled-up parchment in order to cover her mouth with both hands. That was certainly unexpected too. "Surely you're not serious??" she eventually squeaked between her fingers.

He leaned down to retrieve the parchment from where it had fallen. "You can open it and see. That's why I'm giving it to you."

She shook her head, her gaze transfixed on his eyes that were readily staring back. "I… You… So I…" Crea swallowed heavily, her voice practically silent as she moved her hands to cover her chest, trying to keep her heart from beating out of it. "So I belong to you now?"

He stared unblinking for several seconds, his expression the most confused she had ever seen on him before. "Why would you think that?"

"You paid my debt," she whispered. "I would never be able to repay that… So I must be your servant now. Right?"

"I'm pretty sure that's not how this works," he frowned.

"But what else will I do?" she cried softly. "I have no future! No training! I would do much better managing your household than to be turned out on the streets because of this unstructured freedom!"

"That's what the second part is for," he said simply, holding the parchment out to her again. "If you want it."

Crea stared at the parchment for what felt like several minutes. She was admittedly both intrigued and terrified at what might wait inside, but her curiosity won out and she lifted trembling fingers, gingerly taking it from his grasp again. Her hands started to shake harder as she pulled it open, dropping the ribbon to the floor and unrolling it open. The first page was as he said, a letter from her village addressed to him and some outline of terms and a scratched out amount so she wouldn't see how much he had paid. A bright red stamp stood out on the bottom, reading "paid in full." Taking a deep breath, she shakily turned to the next page, seeing only the word "university" and another scratched out dollar amount before she threw the pages on the floor as if the parchment had burned her. Crea covered her mouth again, staring at him with alarm.

"What's wrong?" he asked quizzically, tilting his head after a minute.

"Who _are_ you??" she exclaimed, moving her hands to cover her heart again. "What kind of wealth do you have to pay off my village and send me to university?! Me, a complete stranger!! And you—" She swallowed heavily. "Surely this kind of gift deserves a debt! That I should belong to you forever!"

The man shook his head, raising his hands to try to calm her. "No, no, that's not how this works at all—"

"Then _who are you?"_

He sighed, relenting. "My name is Malroth."

Crea stared, not recognizing the name at all. "Malroth," she repeated, willing her frantic heart to slow down. "And… And y-you are a Lord…?"

He chuckled dryly. "I think this is the part where you're supposed to give me your name."

She blushed. "Oh… I'm… M-My name is Crea."

His red eyes sparkled as he smiled. "Crea. It's a pretty name. Thank you."

She nodded slowly, staring in silence for a few seconds before she carefully began to speak again. "Lord Malroth…"

"Please—" He held up his hand to stop her. "No. Stop that. For one thing, it's the wrong title. For another thing, between two friends at a masquerade, I'm pretty sure it doesn't matter. At least, I hope it doesn't."

Crea hesitated, feeling the urge all over her body to run and flee, her paranoia and disbelief overpowering her very senses. She had never dared to dream of such a fanciful thing before, and now that it was in her grasp it seemed too true to be possible. She shook her head, her voice and her words seeming so far away. 

Malroth bit his lip, watching her terrified eyes. "Crea?" he whispered. "Have I done something to offend you?"

"Offend?" She blinked, shaking her head more urgently. "Oh no, no no no, your grace—"

"Please no titles…"

"I'm just… I'm just…" Crea paused, hesitating a little more strongly as she curled her arms to hug herself. "I'm a little horrified, if I'm completely honest…"

Malroth immediately tilted his head, the black feathers on his mask flopping to the side. "Horrified? Why horrified?"

"You think I don't know how much university costs?" she whispered. "Or my own debt? Or how _big_ those numbers were? I could never have paid that off in a dozen lifetimes and you just walk into my life and upend my stable insecurity and you expect me to just _take_ this?"

"Crea—"

"And then I'd be sent away from the only home I've ever had with no concept of how to care for only myself in such a place or how to _pay_ for anything else or find anything and you just expect me to—!"

Malroth moved quickly, closing the distance and holding her shoulders while he planted a large kiss on her lips. Crea made a surprised noise and froze, feeling his soft lips move on hers. Her mind was too stunned to do much else. He pulled away after a minute and she brought her gaze down when she could move again, seeing his shy expression. 

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "That was… not dignified of me. Far too forward. I— Sorry." Malroth cleared his throat, adjusting the collar on his shirt.

Crea stared for a long silent moment before leaning down to gather the papers and hurriedly standing, turning on her heel and striding away. She thought she could hear his intake of breath behind her in order to call out after her, but if he did so, she didn't hear anything. She just left. 

Her mind was too jumbled and frantic to determine anything more, other than her now _need_ to return to her friends. Crea walked down the stairs, trying not to stomp and huff. _I hope Babs and Anessa will help me figure this out. I'm sure they'll back up my paranoia, too. Anessa always says a_ little _paranoia isn't a bad thing…_

As luck would have it, they were there, the two girls sitting next to each other and smiling widely as they chatted. Rosie was nowhere to be seen, but that was expected. Relieved, Crea approached them, feeling the tension fading with each step closer she took. 

Babs saw her first, turning with a wide grin. "'Ey girly. Lookin' great as always. Whatcha got there?"

Crea smiled a little. "Oh… Just a gift. From the black mask guy."

Anessa raised an eyebrow. "A gift? What kind of gift?"

"You won't believe me," Crea said, sinking down onto the bench next to Babs. "He paid off the village. For my father's debts for me."

They met her with silence for a good ten seconds as they comprehended what she'd said. Then they both exclaimed, _"What?"_

"Is that the proof?" Anessa added, gesturing to the rolled up parchment. 

Crea nodded, handing it to her. "I still don't really believe it, myself."

Anessa ripped off the ribbon, unrolling it to read with Babs looking over her shoulder. "It's definitely the mayor's signature," Anessa mumbled. She read all the way to the bottom, shaking her head once she finished. "And that stamp is an official one…"

"That's it?" Babs wondered. "'Ow odd. Why would 'e do that?"

Crea gestured to Anessa's hands. "Look at the second page."

They were silent as they looked down, Anessa turning over the first sheet. Both read for a single minute before both of their heads popped back up, eyes and mouths agape. _"University?!"_

Crea nodded. "That was basically my reaction too."

"Yer gonna take it, right?" Babs said excitedly, almost bouncing in her seat. "This is amazin'! You'd be crazy not to take it!"

Crea scoffed, folding her arms tight across her chest as she remembered the kiss. "Then maybe I'm crazy."

"But it's always been your dream!" Babs exclaimed. 

Crea glanced at Anessa, who was still studying the page. "Then maybe I'm scared," she admitted. "To get duped or something."

"Scared schmared! It's not every day you get a life-changin' gift from a mystery man at a ball. Which, by the way…" Babs turned her head, looking around. "Where is 'e? I still need to meet 'im…"

Anessa cleared her throat, looking up at Crea. "It would appear these documents are not falsified… And have you read the conditions? Apparently he's set up yearly payments in order to cover your expenses for six years. That's a full rotation of studies."

Babs clapped her hands while Crea shifted uncomfortably.

"Not only that," Anessa continued, "but he's also arranged for a private tutor. I assume because you'd need a bit of a boost to catch up, but you're smart, so I'm sure that won't be a problem."

"Honestly this all seems a bit much," Crea murmured. "I mean… for someone like me?"

Babs shrugged. "So 'e likes you. Didn't ya say 'e was a student too? Guess 'e just wants to stay close to you. Nothin' wrong with that, if you ask me."

"Even when he kisses me without asking?" Crea grouched.

Babs shrugged. "Nobody's perfect."

"Gentleman or not, Babs brings up an excellent point, however. Where is he?" Anessa looked up around the room again. "With such a generous offer I didn't think he'd leave your side for a moment."

Crea nearly answered _upstairs_ but was interrupted by a catch of something out of the corner of her eye, making her look instinctively to the side. She bit her lip. "On the stairs."

Both girls whipped around. "Where?" Babs whispered.

"Silver-blue suit," Crea sighed. "With the black mask."

"I could've told you that, Babs." Anessa snorted.

They watched him as he descended, his eyes downcast and his posture tight. Crea panicked for a moment thinking Malroth would approach her, but he disappeared into the crowd at the base of the stairs for a moment before emerging near the wall, escaping out into the gardens. She exhaled in relief. No confrontations in front of a crowd tonight.

"I didn't get a good butcher's at 'im but 'e looked cute," Babs said. "For you. Not my type."

Anessa rolled her eyes but looked back at Crea. "The better question, of course, is why isn't he with you?"

Crea blushed. "Well he kissed me while I was panicking about how much money he was spending, so I just got up and left."

"'E let you?" Babs asked, turning her head to look at the door he went out of. "And 'e… didn't immediately run after you?"

"At least he respects your autonomy," Anessa mused softly, looking at the documents in her hands again.

Crea crossed her arms. "I wasn't going to let him use me," she mumbled.

Babs just blinked at her for a moment. "Wot?"

"I overheard a girl saying something about noblemen leading girls on just to get in their beds and then run away before the next morning." Crea huffed. "Even if he is wealthy, I'm not that stupid."

Anessa leaned forward, resting her elbow on her knee while she pinched the bridge of her nose. Babs looked bewildered. "Yer jokin', right?"

Crea looked between the two of them. "Um…"

"Crea," Anessa explained slowly. "This document is a _financial contract._ If you sign and accept this, he can't get away from you for _six full years_ on top of paying for everything your schooling will imply. Somehow he's already got an agreement from the university here saying he'd be financially responsible for you. There is no legitimate way for him to run from you with this paper trail you've got going."

Understanding began to dawn on Crea. "So what you're saying is…"

"You're bleedin' mad!" Babs exclaimed.

"No," Anessa corrected. "Financial abuse is a legitimate concern. What I _am_ saying is that he's putting himself in a position that you could absolutely walk all over him if you wanted."

"But I would never—!"

"I _know._ And apparently so does he, if he's willing to practically give you access to his bank account." Anessa handed the pages back to her. "But I understand your concern. If you still have misgivings about him, then I would suggest trying to ask him to change something about the contract. Maybe to add something significant to the conditions. That way you can see how he reacts to you wanting more. If he's upset that you're asking for more than what he's currently offering, then yes, you should run. If he starts to negotiate you into something else than what you're deliberately asking for, that's probably a red flag also. But should he ask for clarity in order to understand what you're asking for and help suggest solutions in order to include what you're asking for, well…" She shrugged. "It's easy to draw your own conclusions about how he'll treat you in the future."

Crea looked down at the pages on her lap, seeing the signatures at the bottom from the mayor and the servant acting in Malroth's name. She pushed that page aside, looking at the outline of conditions from the university, as well as a couple notes on the side in, she assumed, Malroth's handwriting. She sighed. _Is this even possible…?_

"In either case," Anessa added gently, "you should probably go talk to him while you know where he is. Generosity on this massive of a scale is unfortunately rare, and you can have him under a contract, no less." She shrugged, smiling softly. "It's up to you, of course. But if you accept these even as they currently are, you'll be legally protected. And if you decide not to, you'll always be welcome at home, too. Sponsored or not, at least now you'd be able to make some money to survive on your own without relying on couch surfing."

Crea nervously shuffled the pages, biting her lip as she considered her options and glancing between the two of them. "What if, even with protection, I'm still scared?" she mumbled.

"Then you're human like the rest of us," Anessa said softly. Babs nodded at her side. 

Crea looked back down at her lap. 

Babs reached over to put her hand on her shoulder. "Although I tell you what, I bet 'e'd be willin' to 'elp you with wotever you're stuck on. An' besides…" She smiled. "Imagine what 'e must be feelin' after offerin' that and then shootin' 'imself in the foot like 'e did. You saw 'im walk out, remember? Lookin' all distressed and sad? Proper terrified, I'll bet."

Crea sighed. "Yeah, but…" She looked up at Babs. "I don't know what I'm doing."

"Do any of us really?" Anessa snorted.

"Nessy's got a point," Babs said, then smirked. "Although, I will say, any good gentleman knows 'ow to lead regardless of the situation. Worth a shot, innit?"

"You say that and you don't even know him," Crea mumbled.

"'E just spent a fortune on my best friend with the intent to be with 'er a while. And not only that, but 'e respected you when you walked away. Even if I 'aven't met 'im, that says a lot to me."

Anessa nodded. "Minded his p's and q's, as they say. If he reacts favorably to a change, then I would say it's safe. And if it's not safe down the road, then you can officially and personally blame me."

Babs smirked. "I'll remember that."

"Her. Not you, Barbara."

Resolved, Crea stood up. Babs and Anessa just stared up at her as she took a deep breath.

"Alright," she said softly. "I have a chance to live my life like I want to, so that would be silly to throw away so quickly, huh?" Crea smiled shyly at them. "Thank you. For always being so patient with me."

They both smiled back.

"Go get 'im, girly," Babs giggled. 

Crea blushed, turning towards the open doorway. "Yeah. I will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finding it harder to concentrate on this story due to general life things, but I really wanna finish it!! don't worry, it just might take a week or two to get done. maybe three. I'm just moving really slowly rn. (turns out mild seasonal depression during a pandemic kills motivation. who knew?)
> 
> so, yeah. feel free to drop an emoji in the comments to let me know how you're feeling about the story so far! <3


	4. Day Three, Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crea finds Malroth in the garden, Malroth meets her friends, and there's an accident with wine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~I tried to separate this and last chapter so it wouldn't be ultra long. Gentle reader, I failed.~~

As she stepped outside away from the noise and music and crowd, Crea found the breeze favorable. The garden was huge, which was unsurprising considering a mansion of this size. The cobblestone paths were lit with low-burning lanterns, outlining the vague shape of the garden from afar and making it look like little stars all over. As beautiful as it was, it made Crea sigh. 

_Finding him out here is going to take a miracle,_ she thought glumly. And yet, she tightened her hold on the rolled up parchment in her hand and set off beneath the moonlight.

If it had been under any other circumstance, she would've found it overwhelmingly beautiful. Which she admittedly still did, just with far less thought and appreciation than she knew it deserved. The hedges were immaculately trimmed and tall enough to hide behind. And of course, Crea stumbled on a few party-goers taking advantage of this privacy, though she always managed to run away before anyone could kick up much of a fuss. After weaving through hedge mazes and circling around elaborate garden arrangements for she lost track of how long, she was beginning to think and worry that she would never find him out here. For all she knew, he had gone back inside. Or worse, left the ball entirely and gone home, wherever the hell that was. She wasn't optimistic that she'd be able to figure out who he was just by his first name alone. And who would she even ask for that kind of information anyway?

After searching fruitlessly for some time, creeping past more hedges and flowerbeds and small benches overlooking ponds that reflected the moon, she found a small fountain near the back of the garden that caught her eye as she went past it, twinkling with fairy lights strung around the base. She stopped and sat on a nearby bench for a while, calming herself and deciding what to do while she admired it. It was quiet aside from the slow trickle of water and crickets chirping pleasantly in the undergrowth somewhere. The faint whispers of music and the crowd seemed far away, and she tilted her head up to observe the multitudes of stars overhead. Everything was beautiful, peaceful and calm. Still, she wondered.

Eventually in the drawn-out silence, Crea brought her gaze back down to the pages in her hands. Her eyes had adjusted enough by now that she could see the words when she rolled out the pages, idly looking over the paragraphs as she pondered her future. It was indeed tempting. And in truth, she wasn't sure which outcome she preferred more– the one where he rejected her changes and made her run back to safety, or the one that accepted in order to help her stay.

Not that she could guess.

As her gaze drifted over the page, Crea landed on her name in the center of the paragraph. She stared at it for a while, tilting her head as she fixated in something strange, though she didn't know what. Eventually it hit her– she only learned his name tonight. How did he know it in advance to ask for the village to let her go? And for that matter, how did he know which village she was from? Crea bit her lip. She wasn't sure if that was supposed to be intimidating or not. 

Crea was so engulfed in the revelation that she almost missed the near-silent footsteps that slowly shuffled by. But she looked up and saw someone passing on the other side of the fountain with their head down and hands tucked behind their back. They seemed to be deep in thought as they watched their feet, and passed by without comment. Crea didn't say anything either, at least until they passed the fountain enough that she recognized the giant ponytail trailing down his back.

She stood. "Malroth?"

Her voice and his name both snapped him from his trance and startled him, flinching back a pace as his head jerked up and hands spread out in a defensive stance. His red eyes were wide as they settled on her, sweeping up and down as he identified who she was. "Crea?" he asked, a hint of a gasp in his voice. 

She nodded.

His body relaxed a little but his eyes remained wide. "You came back," he whispered.

She nervously chewed her lip, trying to shrug nonchalantly. "Yeah. I… had a few questions."

Malroth recovered his posture, standing up straight with his arms tucked behind his back again. "About?"

Crea took a deep breath. "About… some things. And the contract."

He stared for a moment, obviously processing. "Okay, yeah," he said, trying to keep his face straight. "Were your questions all about the contract?"

"Some," she said quietly. "But not all."

"Then let's start with the contract stuff first." Malroth smiled. 

Crea only nodded, mindlessly rolling the parchment in her hands. "Well… I was curious. How did you get my name for these documents?"

"Ah." He looked apologetic but not embarrassed. "Well. After our dance I asked one of my servants to help me figure out where you lived. I guessed that if I sent a letter to the village asking about a woman working to pay off her father's debts, well… How many of those could there be?" Malroth shrugged. "I hoped they would provide your name for me. So he did some sleuthing with me. And he found Rosie."

Crea exhaled heavily. "Of course."

"She wasn't easy to crack, but eventually she ended up telling him where she was from. He told me, I dropped him on a horse with the letter, he took off with instructions in order to seal the deal." He shifted subtly. "I wrote a letter to the university at the same time, telling them I wanted to pay for a student and I'd give them better personal information once the agreement was arranged. They were much faster, given they're closer to here."

Crea tilted her head. "And they… took your word for an unnamed student?"

He smiled knowingly. "For reasons relating to my status which are not necessary to discuss at a masquerade."

"Right." Crea nodded firmly, dropping the subject. 

"Although speaking of the university, what were you wondering about the contract?"

She chewed her lip trying to steel her nerves. "Well, I… I wondered if I could add a… provision, I suppose."

Malroth nodded. "Such as…?"

Her heartbeat was heavy, pulsing beneath her skin as the adrenaline started to surge. "Well…" Crea forced herself to breathe deeply, and probably a little loudly, which likely ruined her point of negotiation but she didn't care. This was all so new. "I wanted to add something in case I wanted to back out," she declared quickly. "In case… In case university isn't for me." She exhaled heavily. 

"That's… fair, actually," he said cautiously after a minute. "Sensible." He rocked up on his toes like he wanted to take a step forward, but apparently thought better of it and settled back on his heels. "Did you have a specific exit plan in mind?"

Her heart started beating faster. "Um… Not really. Not yet. I… I don't think I expected to get this far," she admitted. 

Malroth chuckled softly at that. "Well, maybe we can discuss that in a little while after we've had a chance to talk about it. Was there anything else you wanted to add? Or had other questions about? I'm guessing that you read it."

"Yes, I read it." Crea nudged her fingers together around the parchment, fidgeting slightly. "I… I have one more thing I'd like to add, if that's okay."

"Yeah, of course." He nodded, keeping his eyes on her. "Let's hear it."

"Well…" She felt strangely scared and empowered at the same time. "I wanted to add something about my friends. I want them to be able to come visit me whenever they want, and have them stay with me while they're there."

"Oh, yeah." Malroth's smile went a little lopsided, though it was faint and Crea couldn't understand what that meant. "Family visits are common, so I'll be sure to bug the university and make sure your friends are allowed to stay. The bedrooms are on the smaller side so you can probably fit one extra bed in there? I think? But if they all decide to come together then I can pay for another room."

"You can…" She could do nothing but blink for several seconds in surprise. "You would pay for them?"

"Yeah!" He nodded enthusiastically. "Of course. They're your family, basically. Would they need their travel paid for too?"

Crea had to consciously keep her mouth from falling open. "I… I honestly don't know yet," she said shyly. "But… Why would you do that?"

Malroth nodded once in resignation, sighing slightly. "Well, I… I have my reasons. Some personal. But I was mostly thinking about what you said earlier about your stability, and I thought that means I should be working my hardest to make things stable for you through all of this, since it's my fault you got uprooted." He shrugged. "Does that… answer your question?"

Crea watched him for a few seconds, observing and trying to analyze his reactions in order to try to figure out his intentions. Not that she was particularly good at it. "Yeah," she agreed slowly. "Then… I suppose this wouldn't necessarily be part of the contract, but can I ask a potential favor?"

He made a motion with his head, inviting her to continue.

Crea took a deep breath. "Do you think our rooms can be close together?"

Malroth's face went a little pale. "What?"

"At the university," she clarified slowly. "I'd… still like to see you. If we're both there at the same time and everything."

"Ah." He fidgeted a little. "Well, I… um." A quiet groan escaped him and he slipped his fingers under his mask to rub at his eyes. "That's a really complicated question," he muttered.

Any relief Crea had been feeling evaporated. "Why?" she asked nervously. "I mean… You said you're a student, aren't you?"

"I said I _consider_ myself a student," Malroth clarified softly, dropping his hands and looking at her sadly. "My lessons are considerably different than what you would be taught."

"Why? Because I'm a girl?"

"No—"

"Because I need to catch up?"

"No!"

"Then why?" she demanded. "You can't send me to university by myself!"

"I know!" Malroth exclaimed. "It's just… Because of my status there are different things I have to learn compared to most people, so I have private studies pertaining to those subjects somewhere else, so I'm not usually around a lot."

Crea's mind was spinning at this admittance of secret subjects, though she wondered what kind of subjects would have to be so secretive. "Why can't you learn them at the university?" she wondered aloud. "I thought that was the point of a university, that people wouldn't have to travel so much in order to learn."

He smiled knowingly, and perhaps a little bitterly, closing his eyes and looking down at the ground. His voice was soft and faint, like a secret. "Most people decide that my wealth means I'm not worth putting up with, as a person."

Crea stared, watching his face as he seemed to wait for a reaction. And then, slowly, she analyzed what he had said, and her face went sheet white as she finally recognized those words. "You're the prince?!" she squeaked.

Malroth sighed with his defeated smile, looking up at the fountain. "Yeah," he mumbled. "The crown prince. That's me."

His reaction was strange to her, and she focused on it in order to keep from fainting. "Are you… ashamed? To be the prince?"

"No," he said. "But when people find out, it usually changes how they treat me. Which is annoying. So I take my studies somewhere less… public." Malroth looked back to her with an exhausted glaze over his previously bright eyes. She thought he looked sad, too.

Her breath was shaky, but Crea tried to speak past it anyway. "So you're trapped too," she murmured. "But you can't throw money at it to get away."

He made a quiet _tch_ under his breath, looking away again. "Why do you think I like masquerades so much…" 

The garden was quiet for several minutes, her staring and considering all this new information while he stared at the hedge. Waiting for her to react, probably. But eventually Malroth got impatient and looked back first, his expression slightly annoyed.

"So? What will you do now?" He huffed. "Keep staring until you decide to never look at me again? Get on your knees and beg for more money? Try to figure out the quickest way to marry me? What?"

Crea blushed, ducking her chin a little but refusing to look away. She was surprised at the change in demeanor… but at the same time, she wasn't really. He'd come to expect that sort of thing, after all. Of course distrust would be rampant for only being viewed as a means for other goals.

So instead, she took a deep breath, keeping her eyes firmly on him. "Can I ask you to dance?" she asked meekly.

The frustration in his eyes slipped away, replaced with confusion. "What?"

"A dance," she repeated softly. "Just here, if you like."

Malroth's confusion kept him rooted to the spot in silence for half a minute, clearly trying to understand her question. He managed to take a tentative half-step forward, still regarding her warily, as if expecting a trap. "So… You mean to make me let my guard down?"

"No."

"Do you mean to swoon me?"

She shook her head, blushing deeply. "Not manipulatively, at least."

Malroth started to approach again, slowly, stopping only an arm's length away from her. "So… Why a dance?"

"Well, this is a masquerade ball, isn't it?" Crea smiled shyly. "And as far as I know, silly titles and status and things don't matter between two friends at a masquerade. At least, I hope not."

A familiar spark reappeared in his eyes, one that she recognized from the last few days of dancing. She hoped she would be convincing enough. He stared at her eyes while she shifted nervously, trying not to look away while he studied her. "I guess you're right," he said cautiously, relaxing his shoulders only slightly. "So… I guess for one more night it doesn't matter what we are."

"Oh," Crea said nervously, trying to smile while she teased. "So we'll stop associating after tonight, is that it?"

He studied her again for a few moments before a sly smile returned his lips. "No," he admitted, his posture returning to the lightness of the last few days. "You're right. We still need to go to university together and everything." He smirked. "And to answer your question, I'll talk to them and see if we can't be neighbors. Or at least close to each other, if they don't allow co-ed neighbors. Makes sense between two friends, right?"

She nodded, trying not to look too eager. "Thanks." Crea paused, biting her lip as he came another half-step closer. "Um… I know that you won't… _necessarily_ believe me, given your frustrations, but… I would really like to continue our friendship, even after this is over. Without the masks. You know, at school. I don't know much about… anything, really. And having a familiar face would be a real blessing. Well, familiar person, since I don't know what you look like." She smiled nervously. "And… maybe it would be good for you too?"

Malroth chuckled, slowly bringing his hands up to her waist. "Oh, don't worry. I believe you," he said without even the tiniest hint of sarcasm in his voice. "And I agree. That's why I'm still here."

Her heart skipped. "You do?"

He nodded.

Crea bit her lip as she measured her words. "Can… Can I ask why?"

Chuckling again, he moved a hand beneath her arm in order to dance again. "Your smile gives you away," he admitted. "And your eyes. I've never met anyone with sincere eyes like yours before."

"Really?" Crea blushed before she could stop herself. "Well… I mean… I've never met anyone with striking red eyes before," she mumbled. "They're… really pretty." She blushed deeper. 

Malroth smirked. "You're welcome to stare. No one will judge you out here."

"Thankfully." She smiled, watching his eyes as they began to move slowly to the distant music. 

It was a waltz again. Not that Crea really noticed, circling in place and staring at his eyes like they were the moon. And just like she would observe craters and all the patterns she could make with the spots on the moon, she observed all the flecks and changes in color of his irises, the way they changed shape when he blinked, the subtle yet bright redness that hid behind dark eyelashes. It was entirely captivating. _He_ was entirely captivating. Crea felt like she was in orbit, endlessly circling him in a way that she never wanted to end. Regardless of who or what he was, he was beautiful, and she never wanted to let go.

Their bodies slowed in their serenade, drifting to a stop as the distant music ended. And yet they didn't stop staring, utterly enraptured by the other's eyes. Crea felt his hand lift from her waist, but he settled it back down again as he changed his mind. She realized he looked nervous. 

"Are you okay?" she whispered. 

Malroth nodded, smiling sheepishly. "I was thinking about kissing you again," he admitted. "But I figured my last kiss was a disaster that I thought maybe I shouldn't."

Crea blushed. "It was… not unpleasant, admittedly," she whispered. "Nor… _entirely_ unwelcome. Just surprising."

His gaze was soft and determined, and it was only a few seconds before she felt him take her chin between his forefinger and thumb. He looked deeply focused, eyes darting between her eyes and her mouth. "Then…" Malroth visibly swallowed, his voice deep and soft. "Can I do it again?"

Crea observed the sincerity in his eyes before she gave a tiny nod, not wanting to separate from his touch. He leaned in slowly, turning his head the closer he got and eventually hovering in front of her lips for a moment. She could feel his breath shake on her lips for a half a second before he finally pressed them to hers, softly giving her a long kiss. Crea felt a subtle change in her body that made her lean forward, looking for more of his lips. And he freely gave, kissing her deeper as the minutes wore on. 

It was when she ended up putting her hand on his hip that Malroth came back to his senses, shyly pulling away while subtly trying to catch his breath. Crea likewise watched him with wide eyes, panting softly. 

He cleared his throat. "I…" But he obviously didn't know where his sentence was going, so he gave up and closed his mouth. Crea simply stared dumbstruck for another minute, and he eventually blushed and tried again. "Staring or not, maybe you'd like to share what's on your mind?" Malroth asked nervously.

She blushed with a shy smile. "Well, I… I liked that. If that's what you were asking about."

He smiled weakly in response. "Well… me too." 

They watched each other for a few seconds, their smiles widening until they eventually started giggling as some invisible wall collapsed between them. There was no reason for it, but they laughed anyway like schoolchildren, unable to stop even though it made no sense. But eventually they caught their breath, looking away to try to wrangle the last stray giggles.

"Listen, I—" Malroth tried to speak, clearing his throat in an attempt to cover his last few chuckles. "I'm… staying here. In one of the rooms upstairs… if you'd like to go with me?"

Crea blushed, understanding the implications of that. Yet now she did not feel afraid. "I… I would need to tell my friends… I don't want them to worry about where I am, after all. Especially if I stay late."

"Right, yes." He exhaled softly, running his hands over his hair to smooth it down. Not that there was a single lock out of place to begin with.

She smiled a little. "You could come meet them," she offered. "Before we… go upstairs."

Malroth laughed nervously. "As long as you don't mention what I am." He turned his body aside, motioning to her to lead the way. 

"Can I tell them your name?" Crea asked, starting to navigate back through the hedge maze towards the mansion. He was silent for long enough that she looked back to see if he was still there, which he was, with a deep thoughtful expression as he followed her.

"Tell them I go by M," he said finally. "I don't want them asking around about my name and figuring out who I am before I can tell them myself." Malroth looked up at her. "Do you think that's stupid?"

"No," she answered quickly. "Given your position that I totally don't know about, it's probably smarter than I would've come up with." She bit her lip. "Heaven knows why you decided to trust me with it…"

"I mean, I told you, didn't I?" He laughed softly behind her. "Your smile and your eyes give you away."

Crea frowned, dropping her voice as they started making their way into more populated areas. "Give me away how?"

Malroth laughed softly behind her. "You glow. Your eyes sparkle. Your smile is sincere and genuine. Not much more to it than that."

Immediately her cheeks started to burn, making her momentarily grateful she was walking in front of him. 

Fortunately he let the subject drop as they started to weave between small pockets of people, finding their way back inside the mansion. Crea turned back once they were in the doorway, smiling shyly at him as he stepped up next to her. Malroth smiled in return, taking her hand and raising it between them in a formal escort position. She giggled shyly, nervously leading him towards the bench where Anessa and Babs still sat, obliviously chatting together with small glasses of red wine, swirling them around lazily in their hands. Surprisingly, Rosie was with them, and she saw them first as they approached, making her smile widely. 

"Crea!" She declared. 

Both Anessa and Babs turned, smiling knowingly as she came to stop in front of them, taking her hand back from Malroth and innocently clasping it with the other in front of herself. 

"Girls," she greeted with a shy yet excited smile. "This is M. I was coming to introduce you before I went upstairs."

"An' stay the night?" Babs asked with a smirk.

Crea coughed. "Um…"

"It is a possibility, but only if she wishes it." Malroth smiled. "I would never do such a thing as to besmirch her honor."

Babs leaned back and shared a subtle glance with Anessa. "Well we better get on with introductions, innit? I'm Babs, this is Rosie, an' that's Nessy. But you can call 'er Anessa."

"An honor to meet you all." Malroth tipped his head in greeting. "I recognize you," he said, smiling at Rosie. 

She froze. "You do?"

He nodded. "You were the one that helped me learn where Crea lived. Because of that, I was able to get her debts squared away before tonight. I thank you very much for that information."

Anessa and Babs swiveled their heads. "You met him before and didn't tell us?!" They exclaimed. 

"No!" Rosie cried. "I mean, I didn't think I did. Did I?" She looked helplessly at Crea. 

"To be honest, it was my friend that asked you and found out," Malroth explained. "Silver-haired boy. You might remember him?"

Rosie looked relieved. "You just about scared me to death, Sir. Don't scare me like that, please!"

"Of course, I apologize." Malroth bowed slightly. "Forgive me. I thought it best to thank you before it slipped my mind."

"Well, now that we're on a first name basis," Anessa said, crossing her legs and draping an arm over her knee, "you won't mind a couple get-to-know-you questions, right?"

"So far as I can supply the answer behind the anonymity of a masquerade, sure." Malroth set his hands together behind his back, listening intently.

"Alright," Anessa said, sitting up a little straighter. "M can't possibly be your real name, right? Is it short for something?"

"Defeats the purpose of a masquerade, my lady." He smiled. 

She huffed. "So what do you do?"

"As Crea may have told you, I am likewise a student."

"Then how on _earth_ can you afford to pay off not only Crea's debts, but her tuition?"

Malroth nodded. "Perceptive. That said, I am supplied a hefty allowance from my father."

"'Efty like a buildin' of gold," Babs mumbled.

Anessa's expression didn't change if she heard what Babs said. "So… How does your father come by his wealth?"

"His business," Malroth explained. "Including several lucrative business partners."

Crea bit her lip, thinking of the emperor. She wondered if the _business partners_ were taxes or other countries, and then promptly stopped thinking about it so she didn't get lost from the conversation.

Anessa hummed, not entirely satisfied but accepting it all the same. Rosie spoke next. "While you're at school with Crea, how will you keep her safe? None of us have gone very far from our village, so you'll keep an eye out for her and help her, right?"

Malroth smiled gently. "Of course. She and I have discussed moving our living arrangements to be situated next to each other, provided the university allows us. From there I will escort her around the campus when necessary or asked, and make sure she arrives safely back each evening."

"Unless you're just planning on shagging her every time she comes back to her room," Anessa murmured. 

Malroth looked at her. "I assure you that I take my schooling very seriously."

"Oh really?" Anessa observed him, her eyes overtly going up and down over his figure. "You're not a daddy's boy playing with all his money, are you?"

Malroth gave her a knowing smile. "On the contrary, he likes that I am at school. He thinks I'll be well prepared when I'm finally finished."

"An' 'ow long's that gonna be?" Babs asked, swirling her wine in her glass again.

"Well, I'm in my sixth year."

"Sixth?" Anessa repeated, frowning. "So you're nearly done then. You're going to finish and leave Crea in the dust, is that it?"

"Actually…" He smirked. "This is my third consecutive sixth year."

All three of the girls exchanged obvious glances.

"So… You're failin' on purpose to stick around?" Babs guessed. 

"More like, paying them to allow me to retake my last year under a different subject," Malroth corrected. "More or less."

"So why don't you finish and go out to work like the rest of us instead of mooch off your father?" Anessa's voice had subtly changed to intrigued, though Crea doubted he would notice. 

He chuckled. "I'm meant to be available to wait for a very specific set of circumstances in order to assume the position waiting for me."

Crea could almost see Anessa's eyebrow go up beneath her mask. "Such as…?"

"Waiting for my father to die so I can inherit his estate and business and run it how I like."

Crea thought of the emperor again and coughed to hide her laugh. That was one way to couch his meaning. Anessa cleared her throat and she looked back, seeing her staring at her. 

"And… the contract negotiations," Anessa said carefully. "They went well?"

Crea nodded enthusiastically. "Extremely!" she said with a smile. "He even said he'll pay for your lodgings if you need it."

Anessa glanced at Malroth, observing his smile again. "You are extremely odd," she concluded.

"So they tell me." He shrugged.

"'Ere's a question for ya," Babs said, smirking. "Are ya gonna marry 'er?"

Crea flushed a deep scarlet. "Babs!"

Malroth just laughed. "I think it's a bit early for that, but the possibility is there, I guess. You'll be the first to find out if we decide anything."

Crea was thankful she had a mask to hide at least half of her mortified face.

"Maybe I should be askin' if you've got a brother," Babs laughed. "Or a sister. Or a cousin. I'm not picky."

Malroth smiled. "Unfortunately, it's just me. I haven't got a brother _or_ a sister. Sorry. I might have to get back to you on the cousins though."

Anessa scoffed, turning to look at Babs. "What, those proposals the other day weren't interesting to you after all?"

"'Oo says I've gotta choose? I can 'ave three, can't I?" She giggled.

"You should probably check with the other two first," Anessa said, rolling her eyes. "They _are_ brothers and presumably well know how to share."

"Ooh, I know!" Babs said, excitedly bouncing in her seat and making her wine swirl in her glass. "You can take one!" She grinned at Anessa. 

"Ohh no," she said, sitting back and sipping her wine. "Don't you drag me into this."

"Right, cos you're goin' after that little blue 'aired one, right?" Babs smirked.

Anessa rolled her eyes, smirking. "No, it's because you have terrible taste in men."

Babs gasped loudly, jumping to her feet. "Why you—!"

Malroth made a choked noise of surprise, making all four girls turn to observe the large wine puddle soaking into the front of his jacket from Babs's glass. 

She gasped again, covering her mouth. "Oh Goddess! I'm so sorry!" Her voice was muffled between her fingers, her eyes wide in horror. "I'm sorry!"

"It's fine, it's just a suit coat," Malroth said, looking down his front and tentatively picking at his lapel with his fingertips. "It just surprised me, that's all—"

"Wine is so hard to get out of regular fabric, a suit coat is even worse!" Babs exclaimed, moving her hand forward a little but stopped, debating whether to touch it or not. "You should go change, get that under cold water to prevent the stain from settin'—"

A perfectly coiffed silver-haired boy appeared at Malroth's side, half a head shorter and wearing a flashy silver mask, and immediately started to fret. "She's right sir, you need to go upstairs immediately—"

Malroth looked flustered. "Aris—"

"—We have maybe two minutes before that suit is unsalvageable—"

"Aris!" Malroth said loudly, making the other boy stop and look at his face. Malroth gave him a knowing look behind his black mask. "It's just a suit," he said slowly. "We can make more. It's not a big deal. I'm fine."

The other boy, Aris, hesitated. Then he nodded, clenching his jaw regardless. "You should really go upstairs though," he whispered urgently. 

Malroth sighed with a defeated smile. "Yes Aris." He turned to smile at Babs, Rosie and Anessa. "Sorry to cut this short. I'll be sure to return Crea to you before you go home tomorrow morning." He turned to see Crea while already being dragged off by Aris. "You're coming too, right?"

Crea nodded but was rooted to the spot, helplessly looking back at Babs out of instinct and seeing her smirk.

"You better go make sure the boy is alright," she teased, swirling what remained of her wine in her glass. "I mean, the shirt."

Her bewildered gaze moved to see Anessa nonchalantly sipping her wine. "He's getting away, you know."

Crea blinked for a few seconds, fully comprehending what they were saying before she turned on her heel, seeing Malroth and Aris jogging up the stairs. Hiking up her dress she hurried after them, trying to keep an eye on their direction as she followed. 

They slipped into a large door in the adjacent hallway once she reached the top of the stairs, and she hurried to it before knocking and opening at the same time. At the blurry sight of Malroth's jacket getting pulled off his shoulders, Crea squealed in alarm, hastily backtracking.

"Crea wait!"

Malroth's voice made her freeze, the door slightly ajar but blocking the view of the room. She listened as well as she could, her own breathing loud in her ears. 

"Come back and close the door," he said among the faint rustling of clothes. "Please." 

Crea did as he asked, slipping in and making sure the door was firmly latched. Her worried gaze couldn't help but wander up, seeing Aris tugging off the paisley vest to leave Malroth in a slim button-up shirt, the same silvery-blue color as his pants. 

Aris huffed, running to the bathroom with the offending clothing over his arm. "That woman has no idea who she was dealing with!" he complained. "She should have to pay for a replacement if she ruined these!"

Malroth sighed, setting his hands on his hips as he called towards the door. "She's not _dealing_ with anyone. That's the whole point of this escapade." Aris's indistinct grumbles were his only answer, and Malroth turned to Crea with a tired smile. "Sorry about that. Didn't mean to scare you."

Crea smiled shyly, fidgeting with her fingers next to her stomach as she looked to the bathroom door. "So… Aris?" she questioned.

"Oh, right." Malroth cleared his throat motioning to the door. "Crea, that was Aris. He's my best friend, head servant and chief of my personal staff, and bodyguard. And clothes guard, apparently."

"Pleasure to meet you!" Artis called loudly from the bathroom.

Malroth was silent for another half a minute before Aris came out panting, his hair still perfectly shaped as he leaned against the doorway. "I think I saved it," he declared.

Malroth shook his head with a sigh, then motioned to Crea. "Aris, this is Crea."

Aris immediately straightened up, bowing with one arm tucked behind his hips and the other crossed diagonally across his chest. "An absolute pleasure and delight, my dear lady—"

"And you can stop that formal talk immediately," Malroth smirked. 

"—and I hope the night finds you well," he finished, undeterred.

Crea giggled nervously, taking the sides of her dress and giving him a little curtsey. "And honor to meet you too, Sir Aris."

Aris stood upright with a disgruntled noise. "Please, just Aris. I'm not a knight so I don't get to be a Sir."

Crea raised her eyebrow, looking at Malroth. "But—"

"He's not _supposed_ to call me Sir," Malroth complained with a sly look. "But he wouldn't stop no matter how many times I tried, so I figured Sir was better than Highness."

Crea giggled, raising a hand to her mouth. "Your dedication is admirable."

"Pah!" Aris scoffed, though his slight blush belied his appreciation for the compliment. "If you think I'm dedicated, you should see the Prince! He far outweighs me in any capacity—"

Malroth sighed with a tired smile. "Aris…"

"Why, at just the last dance we attended a woman stepped on his shoe so hard his foot came right out of it! Truly mortifying, I wouldn't have been able to contain myself—"

Malroth pinched the bridge of his nose over his mask.

Aris noticed his expression and smiled broadly at Crea. "But he handled himself with truly excellent grace and poise, befitting such a noble prince!"

"Yes, thank you," Malroth said, rubbing for a second before looking up to smile at Aris. "Sometimes I have to have enough grace for the both of us, don't you think?"

Aris laughed nervously. "Well, yes, but you shouldn't feel the need to elaborate about little old me—"

Malroth smirked. "Like the time you lost a fight with that paint bucket?"

"Oh it was _dreadful!"_ Aris threw his head back with his hand on his forehead, buffeting the feathers on his mask while trying and failing to suppress a smile. "I had yellow hair for three hours! Oh it was terrible. I was so worried I would have to shave it off!"

Crea couldn't help but giggle at his theatrics.

Malroth grinned, looking at Crea. "I had to force him to stay still in the bathtub to wash it out. It was worse than bathing a cat."

"And rightly so!" Aris complained. "That my dignity was so utterly defeated to be bathed by the prince! The laws of nature never accounted for that."

Crea giggled more, making the two boys smile. "I hope your dignity has recovered since then, Sir Aris."

He puffed out his chest. "Oh yes! It would take more than a bath to keep me down, Lady Crea. I am the epitome of dependability!"

Malroth snorted. "Just like how I'm depending on you to go tell that woman you saved the suit."

Aris blinked. "Oh!" He startled, remembering what had happened. "Yes, of course. You're right. I shall be off then, shall I?" He smiled sheepishly, turning on his heel and walking to the door.

"Aris?" Malroth asked.

He turned around. "Yes?"

Malroth smiled hesitantly. "Take the rest of the night off, won't you? I'll be safe in Crea's company."

Aris smiled, his teeth nearly sparkling. "Of course. Thank you, Sir."

Malroth snorted at the honorific. "Don't make me immediately regret that."

Quickly retreating out the door, Aris just laughed.

Silence settled quickly between the two of them, making Crea's heart start to pound. _Now what?_ she wondered, not even able to move her eyes back to him. They only stood ten feet apart but it felt like miles, stretching further between them the longer they stood there. Eventually, Malroth took a breath and the room started to move at normal speed again.

"Well—"

"Can I use your bathroom?" Crea asked hurriedly, looking up to him with a shy smile. 

Malroth stared for a few seconds before nodding, taking a step aside and motioning to the door. "Yeah," he said. "Take your time."

It took Crea half a second to respond, trying to nonchalantly walk past him. She gently closed the door behind her, locked it, and approached the vanity. The water was loud when she turned it on, using the noise to mask the heavy exhale that deflated her lungs appreciatively. Her reflection in the mirror stared back at her, and Crea almost had half a mind to laugh at herself.

_This is so bizarre._

In the space of three hours, she'd learned that her father's debt had been paid, essentially gotten a full sponsorship to attend university, and had found herself in the bedroom of the crown prince.

Alone.

She shook her head. _Tonight has been nuts._

And yet, she knew it was about to get even more incredible.

And she was strangely okay with that. That was the part that confused her the most.

Crea bit her lip, pulling off her mask and starting to wash her face to try to get some of her agitation out. Babs had tried to insist she wear makeup, but she always smudged it instead and so refused. It was too much effort to learn to stop touching her face. Added bonus for moments like these when she really just needed to cool off.

_So… Do I want this?_

Her brain wandered as she moved through the repetitive circles on her skin, trying to sort through her feelings. It wasn't like she had anything to go back to– and obviously, she wasn't going back to begin with, since she would be picking up what little she owned to move to university in a few weeks. They still needed to organize all of that, figure out where she was going, when she was leaving, how she was getting there, and—

_The crown prince is in the bedroom!!_

Crea put her hands down to brace herself on the counter, looking up at her face that was still dripping wet.

_Goddess._

_Am I about to sleep with him?_

She couldn't stop a brief shiver from hitting her, her body reacting to the prospect. It wasn't like she didn't know. People did this all the time, right? Totally fine. 

_But it's not like people sleep with the crown prince all the time. That is definitely not "normal."_

Crea shook her head, rubbing wet fingers against her eyes as she swallowed a quiet groan. Her entire life just got very complicated very fast.

_I mean. He's cute, from what I can see. And he's probably cuter under the mask. And Anessa didn't stop me, so she probably thinks it's fine. They had to know, right? That this is where this was going? I mean, I know they wouldn't send me into something they thought was dangerous, so…_

She grumbled a bit more, releasing her face and looking at her reflection again. 

_I mean… What's the worst that could happen?_

Crea chewed her lip. Hypothetically, they could sleep together tonight, pretend that nothing happened, go to school for six years and then never talk to each other again. Hypothetically. Or, they could do something other than sex, become friends, go to school for six years and then pretend that nothing happened. Or, _hypothetically,_ maybe they would sleep together, become friends, move to university, live together forever…

 _Wait._ Crea frowned. _Is that the worst case or best case?_

She shook her head, trying to clear her mind of scenarios altogether. Maybe it was best to just look at tonight. Nothing more, nothing less. And in truth…

Rubbing a towel across her face to dry it, she glanced at the mirror again as the pink spots receded.

_Well. He is hot. And polite. Very much a gentleman._

After dropping the towel and putting her mask back on, Crea turned to see the door, walking to it and taking a breath as she reached for the door handle.

_Oh, what the hell._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spoiler: you may think the next chapter is smut. I'm sorry to say it isn't. they get partially undressed but don't go all the way. someone pointed out a power imbalance and I couldn't stop thinking about it.


	5. Nighttime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crea and Malroth spend a surprising amount of time talking.
> 
> (smut postponed)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will openly admit, the smut didn't pan out. Somebody pointed out a power imbalance and I just could not stop seeing it, so it felt better to just not have it happen for how nervous Crea was in my head about it all. apologies.
> 
> the good news is there _will _eventually be smut, because I'm extending the series into a full multi-chap for her first year at university. are we surprised? I hope not, cos it's me. these things have a tendency to grow out of control. like weeds. but they're sure pretty.__
> 
> __again, really sorry if anybody was hanging on for the smut. :(_ _

Crea pushed the door open, immediately seeing Malroth spring up from where he was sitting on the bed next to his untied shoes on the floor. The chivalrousness was lost on her when she immediately noticed his mask in his hands, leading her mind to go blank as she observed his face, unobstructed and smooth. His red eyes seemed kinder now that the mask was gone, and the smirk she had come to expect was missing. 

Malroth took a single step forward before she could dwell on his characteristics any longer. "Crea," he said softly. "I… I wanted to apologize."

"Apologize?" She blinked, trying to draw up his reasoning in her mind. "For what?"

He hesitated. "For this," he admitted, motioning to his room. "For… Well. I don't want this to be the same mistake as the kiss." Malroth blushed a little, tilting his head down. "And I'm sorry if I'm presuming things more than you want, so I just… wanted to inform you that you don't have to say yes to this if you don't want to."

Crea fidgeted with some fabric next to her thigh. "And if I do?"

Watching her carefully, he nervously adjusted and readjusted the cufflinks on his sleeve. A single hesitant step was all else he could manage. "You're sure?" he asked softly. "You're not just… saying that because of who I am?"

"You told me yourself that you believed I wouldn't do that," she murmured with a nervous smile. "My eyes gave me away a while ago, I'm pretty sure."

His mouth changed into a genuine smile, leading him to drop his hands to his stomach. "Yeah. You're right." It was silent between them as he walked closer, shyly gesturing to her mask. "May I?"

She nodded. His hands drew close to her face and she closed her eyes in response, only opening them again after she felt him gently lift the mask away and up past her hair. His eyes seemed to be full of wonderment, darting over her cheeks and eyes and skin. 

"Even more beautiful beneath the mask," Malroth whispered to himself. She blushed with a light laugh, making him remember himself and blink to return focus on her. Dropping the mask to the floor by his feet, he reached forward to delicately hold her hips. "Have you ever done this before?" he whispered.

"Not with another person," Crea admitted, blushing deeply. 

His fingers were impossibly soft as he cupped her cheek. "Then you can teach me what feels good," he said. "And I'll take care of you."

"I'm sure you would anyway." A small shiver went down her spine. 

Malroth chuckled under his breath. "I'm certainly going to try."

"And you?" she asked quickly before he could lean in. "Have you done this before?"

He paused. "Would it matter if I had?"

"Maybe…" She bit her lip. "A little…"

"Not for some time," he answered, trying to curtail her fears with a smooth thumb brushing across her cheek. "Though I've never sent anyone to school before. Just the"—he coughed—"ah…  _ entanglement _ part."

Crea snorted softly, barely reaching to touch a button on his shirt with only her fingertip. "I hope you don't expect much help from me, then."

"Only to tell me when it feels good," he said, leaning in slowly. "I can handle myself, don't worry."

"What gave you the impression I was worried?" she nervously, barely moving as his lips grew closer. "I'm not worried."

"You're breathing very fast for not being worried," he noted with a sly twinkle in his eye. 

"Yes, well…" She hesitated. "You're very pretty and three inches from my face… I mean—!"

Malroth's lips merely brushed against hers, cutting off her sentence and entire train of thought. "You sound like you like that part," he whispered, squeezing her hips a bit firmer.

Crea nodded subtly, her eyes not leaving his for an instant. "Yes," she said quietly, her voice impossibly soft. 

He chuckled. "But to be clear, of the two of us, you're the pretty one."

Any response she had was cut off as soon as he kissed her, his eyes closing to leave her staring at him for a shell-shocked minute before she could follow. His lips were as soft as his hands that squeezed her waist, giving her the confidence she needed in order to properly set her hands on his chest. He hummed softly, leaning against her hands and holding her hips a little more firmly. A muffled noise escaped between them as she felt her body begin to react, and he pulled his mouth away for a second with both of them softly gasping once.

"What do you need," Malroth whispered, still hovering close to her mouth. She just leaned forward to press their lips together again, her hands still pressed on the same place on his chest. 

His kisses were slow and warm for several minutes, giving Crea time for her brain to restart and catch up a little. Shyly she put her hands together on his chest, feeling for buttons beneath his tie and starting to tug on them. Malroth smiled wide on her lips with a soft pant that was almost a laugh, then pushed her back a step. She just kept fighting with the buttons, taking steps backwards and getting lost in his kisses and—

Crea's back bumped the wall, jerking her head back in surprise as she stared and panted the same as him. She'd gotten two buttons open but had skipped the top one on accident, making the window through his shirt a little more comical than she intended. 

"Let me help," he whispered, reaching up and pulling the tie off before releasing the top button. Malroth's shirt opened a bit more and she could mostly only see smooth skin… and a ring on a cord around his neck. 

Crea couldn't help but look at it, picking it up. It was thick like his fingers, and had a symbol of a crown on top, as well as engraved with an M on both sides. A signet ring– a true indication of who he really was. 

_ The crown prince. _

_ Royalty. _

_ One of the most powerful people in the entire empire. _

She looked up to stare at him, the reality settling on her mind once more like a thick blanket. He was still panting lightly, tilting his head at her expression.

"Crea," he whispered, his voice breathy. "What are you doing?"

"Um… Admiring," she replied. "I'm supposed to kiss it, aren't I?"

"I'd rather you kiss me," Malroth smirked, squeezing her hips. 

She blushed, feeling a shiver as she chided herself in her mind. "I suppose that does sound better." 

"May I?" 

Crea only had time to nod before he leaned forward again, pressing their lips together and holding himself back from completely pressing himself against her, which she appreciated as she kept fumbling with his buttons. His eager kisses were distracting enough. His skin was very warm wherever she brushed by it, which happened more frequently the lower she went, causing him to emit a soft groan that betrayed how much he was enjoying it. 

The last button was freed and Malroth leaned back, his hands coming up to pull his shirt off and fling it away. Crea got a glimpse of his chest, feeling her body react again with shivers at how toned he was.

"I'll let you admire and stare later," he muttered, starting to swiftly undo his belt. "Do you need help with your dress?"

She nodded dumbly, transfixed at his hands and waiting to see behind them.

"Crea?" Malroth stopped, still panting softly as his hands abandoned his buckle and came up to hold her shoulders instead. "You look like a spooked deer. Do you need to stop?"

Her eyes finally lifted, seeing the concern in his features and snapping herself from her trance. "No," she said shakily, setting her hands flat across her stomach. "I've just… never shared a bed with a man before." She blushed. 

He nodded slowly, breathing deeply as he tried to calm himself down a little. "And you still want this?"

"I think so," she whispered. His brow furrowed imperceptibly and she wondered if it was the wrong answer.

"You can still say no," he said softly. "We can do something else. Or you can go back with your friends, it's not so late yet that you can't go with them if you change your mind."

Crea shook her head slowly. "I want this," she said. "I'm just… nervous."

"I can see that," Malroth muttered. He chewed his lip for a few seconds, watching her eyes. "I really mean it. We can stop. I…" He hesitated. "You don't have to do this just because you're here, or because I asked. You're not obligated or anything. Really."

"I know," she tried to insist, though her voice was still a little shaky. Taking several deep breaths, she tried to muster some of her own confidence. "Why? Are you doubting?"

His lip was still tucked between his teeth, moving it slightly as he clearly considered how to answer that. "Potentially," he mumbled.

She blinked, reconsidering his stance. "Really?"

Malroth nodded. "I don't want to push you into something you'll regret."

Crea paused, watching the guarded look in his eyes. "Well stop that," she said softly, trying to sound braver than she felt. She wondered if he heard the subtle tremble in her voice. "I just need a little time to adjust, that's all. But I'm definitely not leaving tonight." She smiled shyly, gently brushing his hands from her shoulders and turning around despite his clear confusion. "So… Will you help me?" she asked nervously, looking back at him out of the corner of her eye.

Malroth stared for a minute before adopting a soft smile. "Of course." Reaching up to gently hold her waist again, he lingered a bit before ghosting up her back, silently taking the zipper and pulling it down to reveal her pale skin. She shivered and giggled slightly, adjusting her arms to let the small sleeves fall down once everything was loose enough. He let go at the bottom and the dress collapsed to pool around her ankles, making her shiver at the cool air. Crea turned slowly, shyly keeping her arms across her stomach. She was left in her bra, underwear, and stockings that ran up to her thigh, clipped in place to her garters. He smiled, respectfully keeping his eyes up from where she instinctively tried to cover herself, and he reached forward to put his hands on her elbows. Without moving his gaze, he gently guided her to take a step out of the fabric, and she left her shoes behind as well.

"Do you want to do mine?" he asked softly. "Would that make it more comfortable?"

Crea nodded mutely, stepping closer and letting her eyes drop to his belt buckle. It was already halfway undone, and she finished unhooking it with ease to let it drop to the floor with a dull thunk. He wore a pair of form-fitting boxers beneath, vaguely hiding a bulge between his legs that made her heart race. Malroth put his hands on her arms again, drawing her attention back up.

"Maybe we should just stay like this for a bit," he suggested softly. "Adjust to this, like you said. And… Well, you can touch if you want." He smiled, taking a step back towards the bed to sit on it. "Or we can just hold each other and go to sleep, it's been a long day—"

"No," she said quickly, following him and sitting down a foot away. "I… want to." She blushed as he chuckled, leaning down to strip off his socks. Crea decided to follow his lead, loosening her garters and peeling her socks down her thighs.

She looked over after she finished laying them neatly at the foot of the bed, seeing Malroth crawling underneath the sheets before smiling at her. "What do you think? Will this be okay for a while?"

Crea scooted over and followed him wordlessly, slipping under the covers and already feeling relief that she wasn't showing off so much. But then he put his hand on her elbow, pressing his body a little closer. It was still surprising how warm he was.

"Does this feel better?" he asked softly, rubbing her arm a little. 

She just nodded, hesitantly looking up at his face. Even in the low light of the window his red eyes were bright, smiling gently as he rested his head on his arm that disappeared under the pillow. She felt his foot touch hers and she flinched, making his smile disappear.

"Crea?"

"Sorry—"

"No no," he said quickly, bringing his hand to her face. "It's okay. You're nervous, I know. We'll just go slow. Or we can stop and just talk…"

"We can keep going," she whispered, swallowing. "I can do it."

Malroth raised an eyebrow. "You don't  _ have _ to."

"Yes I do."

His warmth disappeared as he moved his body back. "You do  _ not," _ he assured quietly. "You never  _ have _ to. Not with me. Never with me." He was still for several seconds, eyes darting all over her face as if looking for some kind of clue. "Why would you think you have to?"

Crea's gaze darted down to the signet still hanging from his neck, then looked up. "Because you paid for me."

"No." He frowned. "I mean, yes, I did use money on things, but not to make you beholden to me. I did that to free you. Your life was not a good life, and you deserved better than that. You deserved better than to live in the shadow of your father's debts."

She shook her head, trying to shake loose the words in her brain. She wanted to accept it, she thought, but was mostly stuck on confused instead. "I don't understand," Crea whispered. "Why? Why are you doing this?"

"Why not?" Malroth smirked slightly. "I have the money, shouldn't I be allowed to spend it how I wish?"

"Yes, but  _ why?" _ she repeated. "Why free  _ me? _ Why give me all this with no thought for anything in return? Why bother with some poor girl like me when you clearly have enough wealth you could do anything you wanted and not have to care about someone like me?"

"Shouldn't we all have the chance to live our dreams?" he said, tilting his head. 

"Yes, but… I mean…" Crea sighed, hugging her arms tighter and looking down at the pillow. "I mean… I'm not important. Why is it that  _ I'm _ finding myself in bed with a partially clothed crown prince?" She bit her lip.

"First of all, we decided we're leaving titles out of this tonight. Remember?" He huffed. "Don't think I forgot. Tonight I'm Malroth the masquerade friend, not Malroth the—" He stopped himself. "The one with the title."

"I know, but—"

"Second of all," he continued, cutting her off. "You absolutely are important and if you think you're not, then I have plenty of work to do."

Crea stopped, considering that for several seconds before looking up to his face. "What?"

"You're important," he repeated.

"No, after that." She swallowed. "What do you mean… you have work to do?"

Malroth smiled gently. "If you don't think you're important, then I'll help you believe it. You wanted us to be friends, right? I think that's something friends do. Don't you think?"

Tears welled up in her eyes, making her vision go rapidly blurry at the onset of relief that flooded her veins. "Malroth," she sobbed. "That's…"

His face paled slightly. "Crea? What's wrong?"

She gasped, tears rapidly streaming down her cheeks and onto the pillow. He hesitated for another few seconds before moving forward in order to hug her, pulling her tight to his bare chest. She was trying to suppress her tears too heavily to protest, not that she wanted to.

"Crea, please, I apologize," he whispered, not daring to move his hand even to rub her back. "Have I upset you?"

"No!" she managed, shaking her head quickly. "No, I just— Babs was teasing me all day about how you were gonna ask me to marry you or something and I was so nervous about that, and then I overheard that pink girl talking about how some noble boys kept leading off unsuspecting girls in order to sleep with them and then run away before dawn to break their hearts—"

"What?!"

"—and then the whole fiasco with the contract and I thought I belonged to you and then the sex and I was so nervous!" Crea wailed. 

Malroth's eyes were wide as he looked down at her, trying to understand. "So why are you crying?"

"Because you want to be my friend!" She sobbed, throwing her arm around him to hug him back.

He relaxed a little, holding her tightly. "Yeah, I do," he whispered, letting her continue to cry for several minutes and waiting for her sobs to slow down before speaking again. "I hope I'm not incorrect assuming you want that too."

Crea nodded, still hiding against his chest. "I want that," she cried, hiccuping softly. "Yeah, I do."

Malroth smiled. "I'm good with that."

"I… I was so scared."

He paused. "Of me doing something untoward?"

She just nodded again.

Malroth hummed. "Well, you probably figured this out by now, but I'm not going to do anything like that if you don't want to. And I especially won't go running off in the night like a coward." He stopped, merely listening to her sniffles for a few minutes before continuing. "It's nothing like that. I misread signals and offered this because I thought that's what you wanted, and I apologize. I simply want to help you to have a new and better life without being tied to anything…" He smiled sadly to himself. "Or anyone. Including me, if that's what you wish."

Crea sniffed, making a soft noise that sounded a bit like a short laugh. "Well, I don't know about that," she managed, her voice nasally from crying. "You're my friend after all. That counts for something."

Malroth chuckled. "Yeah, you're right. I just wanted to give you the option in case you decided I wasn't worth putting up with anymore."

She groaned softly, making him look down quizzically. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you," she mumbled. 

He smirked. "Maybe," he said. "But I'm sure after we've done enough together, I'll find something else to tease you about. That's another thing friends do, right?"

Crea snorted. "Yeah, probably."

Things were quiet for a few minutes, the two of them listening to each other and pondering their own feelings. Eventually Crea yawned, prompting Malroth to hum. 

"Shall we sleep?" he whispered. 

She nodded while mumbling. "Can I sleep with my back to you? I feel better when my back is next to something."

"Spooning, eh?" Malroth smiled as she moved without responding. "I'm okay with that too. Whatever you need."

Crea mumbled something incoherent while pushing back against his chest, falling asleep too fast to clarify her words. Malroth just watched her hair for some time, eventually drifting off to sleep himself.

* * *

"You've got everything?"

Crea turned at Malroth's question, smiling shyly. They were dressed and fed and awaiting Crea's friends to arrive, having spent the morning going over details and things about university and what to expect. And she'd officially signed the contract, too.

"Yes," she replied. "Thank you. I don't own very many things, so it's easy to have everything."

He shrugged. "I thought it better to ask either way."

Playing with her fingers in front of her stomach, Crea smiled and turned to look down the road, seeing a familiar stagecoach approaching. In it were her three friends and Aris, whom Malroth had sent to fetch them.

"He looks cozy," Malroth remarked dryly. Crea giggled. 

The coach came to a stop and Aris sprung out without a care in the world, leaving the door open and rushing to Crea to take her hand. "Your coach awaits, madam!" he declared. She blushed, allowing him to lead her to the step and help her inside. 

Once seated, Crea turned back to see Malroth where he stood. "So… See you in a month, then."

He nodded, not having moved but smiled gently all the same. "Indeed. Don't leave without me."

Crea snorted. "As though I could."

"Still." Malroth shrugged. "Safe travels, dear Lady."

"And you, your Lordship." She smiled and the coach began to pull away, and she watched as long as she could before she was forced to turn around.

"So?" Babs hissed excitedly. "'Ow was it?"

Crea blushed. "Fine. We mostly talked."

"Only?" Babs asked, her smile fading. 

She nodded in agreement. "We had a lot to go over."

Babs huffed. "All that for a cup of wine on 'is jacket and it didn't work?!"

Anessa laughed. "I told you it wouldn't, Barbara." Babs just glared.

Crea paused. "That was on purpose?"

"Yes!" Babs grouched. "'Ow else were we supposed to get you to stop yappin' and go with 'im?"

"Not like she needed a lot of help," Anessa smirked. "She was already planning on it."

"It was still too much chattin'." Babs crossed her arms. "Don't act like you didn't have anythin' to do with it either,  _ Nessy." _ Anessa growled. Crea just laughed.

Rosie put her hand on Crea's knee, ignoring the other two. "You look happy."

"I am happy," Crea decided. "It's… nice to have something to look forward to."

Babs and Anessa stopped scowling at each other to turn their attention back to Crea. "An' this is a big somethin' to look forward to," Babs said.

"Almost a proper adventure." Anessa nodded.

"Yeah." Crea's smile grew, small images starting to appear in her mind of the idea. "An adventure. With a new friend."


End file.
